


Angels and Spiders

by HideTheDecay



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:01:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 45
Words: 134,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26447491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HideTheDecay/pseuds/HideTheDecay
Summary: By the time the meeting was called, rumors had spread and Widowmaker already knew exactly what it was about. Reaper had been taken prisoner by Overwatch. He'd been acting alone and the operatives with him had been killed.She listened intently through the meeting, waiting with less than her usual patience to hear the plan of action. But there wasn’t one. The plan was inaction. To leave him there and see what intel he could gather from inside. In the meantime, they would send covert teams to search for a weak point to infiltrate when the time was right to retrieve him.The plan was reasonable, but she didn’t like it. She would be punished for taking him early against orders, but she didn't care. Reaper was her partner and Overwatch couldn't have him. She only needed a few days to find her own weak point to infiltrate, then she would make her move. She would bring him home.
Relationships: Reaper | Gabriel Reyes/Angela "Mercy" Ziegler, Reaper | Gabriel Reyes/Widowmaker | Amélie Lacroix
Comments: 39
Kudos: 19





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The first couple of chapters of this story was inspired by another one on A3O. I don't remember the name and am struggling to locate it, but it consists of the same premise of Reaper asking Widowmaker to dominate him. That is really the only thing they have in common, but none the less, it was the inspiration for the first couple of scenes. If anyone knows which story I'm talking about, please let me know so I can give proper credit. After that, the rest of the story is entirely original.

He knew Widowmaker could see him from where she was waiting on top of the clocktower, but Reaper had a vantage point that she did not. He was scouting ahead to see if the target had arrived earlier than intel had suggested, but there was nothing. Nothing and the wait would continue. It was this part that he hated the most. The inaction. He wanted to get in, get out, and move on. 

  
He paced the ledge of the building he stood atop a few times, before looking up to where the sniper was situated and letting the shadows overtake him. He appeared beside her, smoke filling the air and then dissipating. He could report the status of the situation to her, but there was no need. She would know why he had returned - he sure as hell wouldn’t have if there was anything else to do. 

He crossed his arms over himself, listening to the faint sounds of the city below. There was often silence between them, but it was a companionable silence. They had rarely spoken at length and though they each knew more about the other than they were like to admit, there was no reason to talk about it. Even so, his eyes drifted to her and he considered her, as he had taken to doing lately.

\---

She withheld a sigh when he appeared at her side once more. She could be patient, but she knew her partner wasn't so tolerant of delays. Reaper didn't seem particularly agitated, at least so far. 

She felt his eyes on her and she returned his gaze, silently questioning him. It wasn't unusual for men, or even women, to stare. But rarely were they people she respected and she was curious why he'd been studying her lately. 

\---

When she looked at him, he stiffened ever so slightly. How did she _do_ that? She was the only person that could tell whenever he was looking at her whether or not he was turned to her. He saw the question and he considered playing it off - pretending that he wasn’t looking at her at all and leaving her unanswered.

Instead, he turned it around on her, turning his head toward her, as if he was the one that had caught her. “Yes?” 

\---

"You've been watching me." It was not an accusation, just a simple observation. She couldn't be _completely_ certain, of course, with the mask hiding him. But she'd only survived as long as she had as an assassin by trusting her gut when she felt she was being watched. 

She looked down to the street below. This conversation was unimportant and she didn't want to miss any potential sign of their target growing near. 

\---

“Hmph,” was her immediate answer. Then, as he continued to observe her, he decided that this was the opportunity. She was the one to broach the topic, so he may as well get it out of the way. Either she would agree or not, but he could stop thinking about it either way. At least, he hoped he could stop thinking about it if she wasn’t interested.

“...I have a proposition for you.” They were professionals and there was no reason why he had to approach this with anything less than professionalism. Even if what he had in mind couldn’t be less so.

\---

She looked to him again, her brow quirking. A job, perhaps? "I'm listening." If Reaper wanted someone dead and he didn’t mean to take care of it himself, it must be a job that required the touch of a sniper. 

\---

There was a pause and then Reaper lifted a hand up to his mask, reaching just past it with clawed fingers to ease his earpiece from his ear. He turned it off - there was no need for those at Talon who would review their mission, successful or failed, to hear what he would ask of her. 

“There is something I would like you to do for me - a favor.” A favor that he would repay if and when the time came. When she had a favor to ask of him.

\---

She was all the more intrigued when he turned off his earpiece. She reached for hers, turning it off as well. "Then ask your favor of me." 

\---

He was beating around the bush wasn’t he? That wasn’t like him. It wasn’t that he was afraid of rejection - he anticipated it. The odds of her agreeing to this were slim, but he thought it could strike some sort of appeal to her. He wasn’t looking for anything but release. Perhaps she could understand that. Perhaps not.

His only reluctance was that his request could completely throw off the strange balance to their relationship. There was no one else he could ask this of, though, so would it be worth it? Yes. 

“I want you to dominate me.”

\---

That was the farthest thing from what she'd been anticipating. "My blood is cold, I'm sure you know that. If you want a passionate night, you'd do better to look elsewhere." That wasn’t exactly what he was asking, though. It was hard to wrap her mind around - that someone like him would want to be dominated. 

\---

“I’m not looking for a fuck,” he answered, though he wondered what nonexistent woman she was imagining would want him. He was on the border of death - he was death itself - who would willingly spread their legs to him? “I’m looking for pleasure… and pain.” He wanted to be consumed by both. “I want you to give them to me.”

\---

"It's been a very long time since I've given anyone pleasure. But if it's pain you want…" She was surprised that the idea actually made her feel a flicker of...something. That he would willingly give himself to her and want her to hurt him. 

\---

“Both.” If he wanted to be tortured, there were many ways for him to make that happen. That wasn’t what he wanted. “At length.” He didn’t want it to last an hour and that was that. He wanted to cum until that in itself was a torture.

\---

"...Why are you asking me to do this for you?" She was far from the only woman he worked with. Not that he couldn’t ask this of someone he _didn’t_ work with. There were probably prostitutes who specialized in exactly what he was wanting. Why her?

\---

“Who do you propose I ask?” he challenged, the words growled. The fact of the matter was that she was the perfect option. The only option. She was someone that he knew and, to the extent that he could, trusted. She was someone who did not fear him. Someone that had already glimpsed him without his mask. She was a cold, dangerous woman, so it would be easy for her to be harsh with him. To be creative in her methods. Not to mention she was the sexiest woman he’d ever laid eyes on. 

“Either you’ll do it or not.” 

\---

Widowmaker considered what he said, looking down to the street again. The idea had stirred a little bit of something within her. Very similar to the sensation she felt when she was closing in on her prey. He would be a different sort of prey, but prey nonetheless. "...I'll do it, but I want you to tell me what you want. Details." Missions always went smoother with details. 

\---

His brows raised and there was no denying the way his pulse picked up. She was actually agreeing… There was a lengthy silence as he absorbed that.

What he really wanted was for her to surprise him, but he was sure it wouldn’t take much for her to be creative. To figure out what she wanted to do in the heat of the moment. “I want you to stroke and suck me.” He wanted more than that, really. For her to climb on him and ride him, to use him, but he understood that such a thing would be of no interest to her. “To cut me, choke me, burn me.” She could strike him, if she wanted. Beat him with her hands or with something more solid. He didn’t care what, so long as she didn’t break his bones. 

He didn’t want humiliation. He wanted abuse.

\---

It was a little jarring to hear him say such things to her, but she'd asked for details and she had always liked that he was so direct. "You may find I'm out of practice with such things. I haven't touched a man since the night I put my husband in his grave…" She was sure it would all come back to her once he was at her mercy. 

\---

“I’m sure you can figure it out,” he drawled sarcastically. Both the pleasure and the pain. He moved closer to the ledge of the building, looking out himself. “I’ll come to your room tomorrow.” They had a busy night ahead of them, but the day after a mission was always given to them in reward, so long as they succeeded.

He had no intention of failing tonight.

\---

"I'll be waiting." He would come to her, offering up his body to her. It was something to look forward to. The faintest smile played on her lips. It wasn't the thrill of anticipating a kill. But it wasn't that far off either. 

\---

“Hmph,” he repeated, and then like that, he was gone. On a distant building, scouting again for a target that was either going to be right on time, or, with his luck, late. He lifted his earpiece, turned it on, and slipped it into place. They would wonder what was said, they might even question it, but it wasn’t any of their damn business and they were used to him being difficult. 

Tomorrow… Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.


	2. Chapter 2

Anticipation carried him to Widowmaker’s door that afternoon. He knew she was expecting him, though they hadn’t exactly worked out when. He wasn’t worried about it. So much so, that when he arrived, he forwent knocking altogether. A black mist slipped beneath her door and he solidified on the other side. 

The records would show, if anyone ever bothered to check, that no one had entered or exited her room. That her door had not opened and therefore, he could not be there. The cameras were a different story, but he knew for a fact that footage was not stored for nearly as long as other data. 

He had never been inside of her room before, though he had glimpsed it through the doorway a handful of times over the years. He looked around, not even certain she was actually there.

\---

Her room was clean and simple, almost completely bare of decoration. One of the only pictures was a small framed photograph of herself and her late husband. There were three small glass cases on a shelf, their occupants hidden but the plants inside them thoroughly coated in spiderwebs. Candles were flickering throughout the room and Widow herself was curled up in a chair, a book in her lap. 

She would normally have been alarmed by such an intrusion, but she was expecting company. She also knew the black smoke of Reaper's quite well. She set her book aside and stood. She wore a black dress and much like what she wore on duty, it was cut in a way that left little to the imagination. "I wondered when you would come…"

\---

When he laid eyes on her, they raked over her form. He knew her body rather well - her catsuit she wore day to day was so form fitting that there was nothing to hide. Even so, he wanted to see her bare. “Where do you want me?” he asked, looking no different from usual. He never wore anything but his armor, always ready for a fight, even when he didn’t have to be. 

\---

Right down to business. That was just like him. "The bed." She'd prepared for this and replaced her sheets with a material that would be more suited for the mess. She didn't want blood ruining her fine bedding. 

\---

He moved to the bed, shedding his cloak and letting it fall to the ground with a thump. Whatever was inside it, it was heavy. Without it, it was clear just how armed he was, but he worked on the clasp of his holster, letting his shotguns fall to the floor much the same way. Other belts followed, as did his gauntlets, boots, and, eventually, his armor. 

When his body was finally revealed, it was… off. The dusky skin he’d had in the past was paler. Almost grey. There were places where his skin was split and smoke seemed to seep from within him. There was a scent in the air - ash and something almost sweet. The beginnings of rot. 

With his back to her, he slowly eased his mask off. She’d seen him without it before, but only briefly. He took care to hide himself from others and so it was only in dire circumstances that he’d been caught without it. 

\---

She watched in silence as he undressed himself. She'd never seen him bare. She'd seen him without his mask, but only a glimpse and never up close. It didn't matter to her. His disfigurement wasn't going to affect her performance for him. Fear or even disgust were things she simply didn't feel anymore. 

She opened the drawer beside her bed and began taking out some of the tools she'd prepared for their time together. Something she'd fashioned that almost looked like a whip, but the strands attached to the handle were almost entirely translucent. An ornate, curved dagger. A scalpel that she balanced delicately over one of her candles to heat the blade. 

\---

He turned to her, revealing that his face was not unlike his body, just worse. The left side of his bottom lip was torn off completely, revealing several of his teeth. There were jagged cuts across his brow and cheek, bone peaking out and wreathed in smoke. His skin was just as sallow and even the color of his eyes had changed. Once brown, they were now tinged with red. Even the whites looked to be red with irritation. 

To anyone that had known him before, he still looked like the same man. Just evil. Just dead. 

He saw what she had in hand and that prompted him to peel off the last of his clothing. As his pants fell, his cock was already perking from the anticipation of what was to come. He sat down on the edge of the bed, waiting expectantly for her to take over.

\---

Her eyes fell when he revealed himself and she was pleased to see that he was already aroused. Perhaps first it would be best to get him going before she began the part of this she was particularly looking forward to. 

She moved to sit beside him on the bed and reached for him. Her fingers were ice cold as she wrapped them around his cock and began to stroke him, wanting him fully hard. 

\---

His skin was far from warm and though he was not as cold as she was, the temperature did not bother him in the slightest. It was a simple, but direct start and as someone that had suffered without the touch of another for years, it was enough to draw a sound from under his breath. 

Though this was supposed to be her in control, her bending him to her will, he was a man that knew what he wanted, so he didn’t think about it as he reached for the front of her dress and tugged one half of the plunging neckline aside, revealing her breast to him. She’d left his hands free, after all, and if she didn’t want him to touch her, she ought to remedy that situation.

\---

Since he wanted to be dominated, she was a little surprised when he was so forward as to reveal one of her breasts. He was here to get what he wanted and she had no qualms with him wanting to see her body. He had revealed his, after all. "Before I start, what are your limitations. Anything short of killing you?" She knew he wouldn't be worried about scars, but she wanted the boundaries to be clear. She squeezed his cock, finding that she still had a certain finesse to her touch even after all these years without touching a man. 

\---

His hand slid in and he grabbed a handful of her, squeezing. “No,” he answered, though he added, “Just don’t break anything.” He could handle broken bones, but it wasn’t something he wanted to deal with at the end of this. 

\---

She nodded, it was a reasonable request. "Are you ready?" She gave his cock a long, slow stroke, ending it in a squeeze. He felt ready to her. 

\---

He gave her another, harsher squeeze, before letting go. “Ready,” he agreed, his cock much, much harder. He wasn’t sure what she intended to do first, so he remained as he was, hoping that she could really fulfill his fantasies the way he’d hoped she could.

\---

With that assurance, she pounced, using her weight to knock him back onto the mattress. She leaned down as if to kiss him, but bit down hard on what remained of his lower lip. Her fingertips sought some of the tears in his skin near his shoulders and she dug her nails deeply into him. She could swear that she felt her heart beat, just a little, at the thought that he was now snared in her web. 

\---

He had imagined that her fingers might wander to those places in his skin, but he hadn’t anticipated it so soon. The touch won quite a reaction, drawing a scream from him as he thrashed, knocking their teeth together. Those wounds, ones that would never heal no matter what was done to him, were always painful. Agonizing. 

They were why he wanted this.

\---

It was so rewarding to make him scream and so soon. With no more than her fingertips. "You will scream for me for _hours_ , mon trésor." She purred to him, grinding herself against his cock to give him some stimulation as she pressed her fingers into the tears again. 

\---

He shuddered and when she repeated the touch again, he screamed again, his back arching and his hands flying up to grip her wrists. It was an instinctive reaction and in the moment he was already trying to stop her, but as soon as he realized himself, he let go, letting his arms fall to either side of the bed beside his head.

\---

She wasn’t surprised when he grabbed her. She knew there was a chance he may hurt her without even meaning to. But she wasn't afraid - he had asked her for this. She finally lightened her touch and ran her tongue along his jaw. She was curious if he tasted as much like ash as he smelled. 

\---

His eyes fluttered closed and he turned his head, giving her tongue room to taste him. He was hers to use however she wanted and he was already trembling, having gotten off to a solid start. He panted, the tears pounding in a way that was mind numbing, but the pain was refreshing. Different to the constant ache they gave him. 

\---

Widow licked her way to his ear, giving it a rough nip before she sat up, straddling his hips. She looked down at him with a cool, but captivated gaze as she reached for one of the candles near the bed. 

\---

When she pulled away, his eyes opened and he looked up at her. The position made him want to press up into her, but he kept himself still. He couldn’t help but follow her hand, to see what he was reaching for. He spied the candle and he kept his eyes on it, watching and waiting to see what she would do with it.

\---

She could feel the way his cock pressed against her while she sat this way and it was almost pleasant. She gave him another grind with her hips just before she began to tip the candle. It had been burning a long time and molten melted wax spilled over his chest. 

\---

He realized what she was going to do and he found that curious. Then the wax actually landed on him and he hissed, hands twisting to grip at the sheets beneath him. It was nowhere near as painful as what she’d already done, but that was why he wanted it. It was a sensation that distracted. That felt good, even as his skin burned beneath it. 

\---

She watched him, tipping the candle to stop the flow of wax. It hurt him, but it was a different sort of pain than what she'd given him before. She kept the candle poised, threatening to tip it again as she rocked her hips against him. 

\---

He let go of the sheets as the waxed cooled and eventually the most prominent sensation was the throbbing in his cock. In the friction of her rubbing him. He reached for her hips, holding them, his grip far more sure than it had any right to be. He rocked himself into her, yearning to sink into her.

“Take your dress off,” he told her, again crossing the line from submissive to dominant.

\---

"When I'm ready." The exposed breast was enough for now. The way he was throbbing against the silk of her panties, she thought he might cum against them. She continued to grind into him and eventually she tipped the candle again, this time aiming the wax to fall on one of his nipples. 

\---

He chuckled under his breath, the sound low and gravely. He was panting harder and harder and this time, though the sensation was sharper due to where she chose to pour it, the sound he made was more of a hum. He knew what it felt like now and he was more prepared for it. He was also clouded by pleasure and he was starting to moan softly as his balls tightened with tension. 

\---

It seemed he wasn't particularly bothered by the wax anymore. She smirked rather wickedly as she repositioned the candle again. She rubbed against him harder as she poured the wax over one of the tears in his flesh along his side. 

\---

His eyes widened and he shrieked. Like before, he reacted instinctively and his hand rose to slap the candle from her hand, causing it to fly off to the side and land on the floor. Then it fell to his side, where he cupped the wound, but his subsequent moans weren’t just from the pain. His cock was spilling, the intense sensation throwing him over the edge. 

\---

She was surprised when the candle went flying, but was quickly distracted by the feel of him cumming against her panties. She stopped when she felt he was finished, climbing off of him and checking to make sure the stray candle had been snuffed out. "Very naughty of you. I like that candle." She said as she moved back to the bed, giving his spent cock a rough squeeze. 

\---

What blood was left in him had surfaced and for the first time in a long time, his skin had a little color to it. It didn’t look quite so dead. He grunted when she squeezed him, looking at her with a dark, but satisfied gaze. “Tie my hands,” he demanded quietly, tired of interrupting her the way he was. He could grit his teeth and bear the pain, but when it was so sharp that he couldn’t think, he didn’t want to fight her.

\---

"It won't do much good, will it, mon trésor? You could escape any bonds I put on you." Even so, she went to get some of the thin, strong wire she used in their missions. Maybe he thought he could resist the urge to fight her if he was tied. 

\---

“I won’t.” He could phase out of this at any time. Hell, he could grab her, twist her around, and have her helpless beneath him at any time, but that wasn’t why he was here. He wouldn’t let himself escape her. It wasn’t as innate as physically stopping her was. He slowly drew his shaking hand from the wax-filled tear and looked down at it with dread - scraping that out of it later was going to be hell.

\---

She sat down on the bed beside him and took his wrists, binding them together. Then she secured the other end of the wire to the frame of her bed, pinning his wrists above his head. “Are you sure you still want this? At length?” He had asked her to tie his wrists, so she knew he wasn’t finished, but she also didn’t know how much more he would want to endure. 

\---

He frowned. “Yes.” They’d barely gotten started. He wanted a variety of sensations. More than just the burning of the wax and the fingers in his wounds. He tested the binds, feeling them dig into his skin. It was more uncomfortable than cloth or rope would be, which was ideal. “Are you sure you can give it to me?”

\---

“I’ve made you scream and I’ve made you cum. I’m more than capable.” Her prior doubts about being able to please him were gone. She’d managed to get him off with only minimal effort. It was an empowering feeling and she felt her heart give a hard thump in her chest. She took him in hand again, starting to work him now that he’d had a little time to recover. She needed him hard again for the next round.

\---

“Then don’t question me,” he growled. It was not very dominating for her to make sure he still wanted it. It shouldn’t matter what he wanted, even if that was why they were here. His eyes fell to where she was touching him, his cock still somewhat sensitive and twitching beneath her fingers.

\---

Widow considered him a moment, then released him and went to her dresser. She returned to him with another pair of silken panties and stuffed them deep in his mouth without warning, almost hard enough to choke him. “That’s enough talk from you.” They’d make for a nice gag while she worked.

\---

He couldn’t parse what the panties were for until they were shoved into his mouth. He gagged and coughed, his tongue shifting as if to push it out, but it was stuffed in just a way that he couldn’t. When he looked up at her, it was with a glare, but his eyes were brighter than before. 

\---

Much better. She took him in hand again, starting to squeeze and rub him. She looked over at her tools as she waited for him to thicken again, deciding what she would like to do next. Her fingers were a little warmer now, her blood flowing just a little while she toyed with him.

\---

It had been long enough that it didn’t take long for him to stiffen for her. Her hand was skilled enough and the sight of her, Widowmaker, stroking him in her slutty black dress was enough to get him going. He watched her, more interested in what she was thinking than in the tools she was thinking about.

\---

When he was hard enough, she reached for her tools, taking up the dagger. She played with it a little, the hilt rolling between her fingers as she considered him. Deciding where she wanted to play with him first. The uneven way her dress sat was getting uncomfortable so without much thought she slipped out of the other strap, letting her other breast free.

\---

His eyes fell to her chest and he stared there for a while, but eventually his eyes were drawn to the dagger. That would hurt, but it was a pain he was looking forward to. A pain not unlike the wax. Bad, but not so bad that he couldn’t enjoy it. Not that he’d ever cut himself for pleasure, but he had suffered all manner of injuries in his life and he knew what he could handle.

\---

She saw the way his eyes lingered on her chest. She lowered the blade to his hip and dragged the curve tip along the curve of the bone, leaving a long, shallow cut. As she did, her free hand moved up to squeeze her breast. If his hands were free, she thought he’d want to be doing that so maybe it would get him off to watch her touch it instead.

\---

He felt the bite of the dagger and it drew a slow breath from him. Almost sensual. The line that was left behind was red, but it didn’t bleed the way it would on someone else. In fact, more smoke unfurled from the wound, though it was fainter. Wispier. Then, unlike the wounds she’d played with before, it began to seal back up, the skin regenerating on its own. 

She could play for as long as she wanted and he could take it. 

His eyes went back to her breasts and he watched her touch herself hunger.

\---

She watched the flesh mend itself with absent interest. So she didn’t have to worry much about scarring him, not that it was much of a concern to start with. Her next cut was near his navel and then time she cut deeper, carving a little pattern into him as she kneaded her breast for his entertainment.

\---

That stung sharper, but the sound he made, muffled by his gag, was still sensual. This time he did bleed, but not nearly as much as he should. It took longer to start healing too, but within the minute, that mark was gone. His hands strained the wire, this time wanting to touch her.

\---

She was enjoying herself, carving her way slowly along his torso. Her eyes found the movement of his wrists fighting the wire and she smiled faintly, using her fingers to tease her nipple. It felt...nice. Her dagger was starting to venture closer to where she’d poured the wax, chipping away at what had dried on his skin.

\---

His eyes flicked between what she was doing with the dagger and the show, his body shifting restlessly. His blood was warm and it seemed hers was too. At least, the blue of her skin seemed a little paler. He wanted to lick his lips, but instead he choked a little more on the dry fabric in his mouth.

\---

When he choked, she chuckled. “If you stop complaining, I’ll take out your gag. I may even give you a taste…” Of what, she didn’t specify. But she released her nipple to reached up and pull the panties from his mouth. She cut him again, daringly close to one of the splits in his skin, then leaned down to run her tongue over it, getting a taste of his blood before the wound could mend.

\---

With the gag gone, his teeth pressed together and he sucked in a breath through them. He could feel how close she was and he was preparing himself for it. It seemed she favored those spots and he wasn’t surprised, but it meant that this was going to be a lot more intense than even he thought it would might. Everytime she went back to them was actual torture, but still he wouldn’t stop her. He watched her lick his blood and his lips quirked in a little smirk. 

\---

She was playing close to one of his wounds, but she didn’t dip the blade into it. It wasn’t time for that yet. She experimented with different depths of cuts, watching to see what made him bleed and what took longer to heal for him. She reached down with her free hand to squeeze his cock, not wanting to leave it entirely neglected.

\---

His eyes shut and he pressed himself up into her hand, the need in him intensified with each and every cut. His fingers flexed and he tried to rock himself against her. “Suck me,” he demanded, a desperate edge to his voice.

\---

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” She gave that demand as much heed as she had his order to take off her dress. She began to stroke him steadily and the blade began to work its way lower. She cut him just below his navel as she stroked him, watching him as he grew restless beneath her touches.

\---

It wasn’t quite what he wanted, but the stroking was enough to satisfy him. He rolled his hips into her hand, finding it much easier with her doing most of the work. Now he wasn’t just rocking without avail. This time he did lick his lips, thinking about hers wrapping around him.

\---

Her blade was again venturing to daring territory, this time toying near the base of his cock instead of one of his open wounds. She stroked him thoroughly wanting to build the tension in him though she knew it wasn’t exactly what he wanted. He’d have to wait. For a little bit of extra fun, she leaned over him, letting the head of his cock brush against one of her nipples. Her breasts weren’t especially large for her to work his cock in between them, but she could still use them to tease.

\---

He stiffened when the blade came close to his cock. This time his eyes were fixed with rapt attention on it. He trusted her… But if there was any reason he’d phase out of his binds, it would be if she got any ideas about mangling him. There were things that even he could not heal from. 

In truth, the little lick of genuine fear was nice and the tease was even nicer, though even her show struggled to win the battle for his attention while the danger lingered near his most important parts.

\---

When she felt he was adequately tense, she let the blade wander over to the hip bone she hadn’t carved yet. To reward him for enduring her threat to his most sensitive area, she leaned down further and ran her tongue over the length of him. His skin did have a certain ashy taste to it and it wasn’t as sweet as his blood had been, but she didn’t mind it.

\---

He watched her head descend and he held with breath until he felt her tongue. “Widow…” That, of course, was not her actual name. In intimate moments such as these it might make sense to use her actual name, but even if they knew each other’s true names, that was not who she was to him. She was Widowmaker and to him that was her true name. He wouldn’t want to call her Amelie anymore than he’d want her to call him Gabriel. 

\---

She’d never heard him say her name in quite that tone. She wouldn’t have liked to hear him call her by her true name. Amelie’s heart had stopped long ago. What was left of her was only Widowmaker. She wrapped her lips around him and found that the lingering taste of his first orgasm helped to drown out the flavor of ash as she started to suck him, the blade pressing deeper into his hip.

\---

This time the mix of sensations was perfect. The dagger digging into him was an incredible complement to the cool lips sucking. This time, the sound that filled the room was a real moan. Not a scream, nor little sounds under his breath. This time, it simply felt good and his eyes rolled back as they shut.

\---

It was a big change from the first time and it maybe wasn’t exactly what he was looking for, but he was clearly enjoying it. The variety was probably what he would really need to be able to endure an entire afternoon of this. She took him deeper, sucking him thoroughly as her dagger dragged lazily through his flesh.

\---

“Yes,” he purred, wanting her to press harder and harder. It hurt, but it was such a pure pain. His hip was a beacon of sensation, but right beside it was an intense pleasure that he’d not experienced in years. It was just as powerful and the two sensations danced. 

\---

She gave him what he wanted, her blade digging deeper as she worked. Her head bobbed steadily and she felt her body heat just a little more. This was almost as enjoyable as making him shriek.

\---

He was starting to writhe beneath her, the sting making his moans a little sharper. He was losing control of himself and starting to buck his hips into her mouth - and into the blade - needing her to swallow him. The wire was starting to cut into his wrists and those too were smoking, but he was mindless of it.

\---

It was tempting to pull off of him. To give him a new sort of suffering. But she was enjoying his desperate movements. It would be a shame to let his blood cool even a little. She rode out his bucks, relentless with both her mouth and the dagger she cut him with.

\---

It wasn’t long before he came with a strangled sound, stiffening as he spilled into that cool throat, his entire body rolling as the sensations pulsed through him. Each pulse bringing a little more seed until there was nothing else for her to swallow. 

\---

She swallowed down all he had to offer and pulled off once he had finished. She looked down at her dagger, finding it coated in his blood and moved away from the bed, her dress still resting on her hips as she walked. Leaving Reaper to recover, she grabbed a cloth and began carefully cleaning the blade. She didn’t use it much, but she did like it.

\---

He was left panting and trembling. Even after the wound healed, there was the ghost of the pain pounding through him. Even that was a compliment to the afterglow of another orgasm. His eyes opened and he found the woman standing off to the side, working on her blade. He assumed this was part of the play. That she was making him wait to make a point. So he let her make it, his fingers flexing as he, as patiently as he could muster, waited for her to return.

\---

When she was finished, she made her way back to him and sat down at his side once more. There were more toys to play with, but she wanted to make sure he was ready to harden again before she chose the next one. She studied him, watching his breathing, curious if he was ready to go again.

\---

The longer she looked at him, the more he felt his hackles rise. “What?” he asked, a strange flicker of insecurity filling him. There was a reason why he kept himself hidden and the reality was that he was rather vulnerable to her right now. In ways that had nothing to do with the wires binding his wrists or the weapons lying in wait. 

\---

His unease amused her and she smirked. “I was just watching to see when you’re ready for more, mon tresor. But I have a way of finding out…” She rose again, taking hold of her dress and pushing it the rest of the way down so she could step out of it. That only left her in her panties, still damp with his cum. ...Perhaps they were a little damp from the other side as well, which surprised her. It had been a long time since she’d had stirring of that sort, but she also hadn’t been sexual with anyone in years. She hooked her thumbs in the waist of them and began to step out of the silk as well.

\---

Whatever discomfort he’d felt disappeared when he watched her undress completely. Again, it wasn’t really anything he hadn’t seen already, but there was no denying that it was different when it was only her skin. Smooth, blue skin. His body was spent, but he was so aroused by the sight of her that he still twitched even so. “There’s no need to wait,” he finally answered, his voice relaxing. Even if he wasn’t hard, she could still have fun with his body. 

He’d harden eventually.

\---

She could see in his eyes that he was ready, even if his body wasn’t. She climbed onto the bed with him once more, studying him despite his insecurity. After a moment of consideration, she moved in closer and offered one of her breasts to his lips. She had said he could perhaps have a taste if she didn’t feel the need to gag him again.

\---

He didn’t hesitate to take her between his lips, but when he tried to suck in the way that came naturally to him, he couldn’t. There wasn’t enough lip for him to create any suction around her. He was frustrated by this, and he snarled his displeasure, but it didn’t stop him from resting her nipple between them as he licked her.

\---

She made a soft sound under her breath, the sort of sound she hadn’t made in ages. His mouth felt good to her, even if he couldn’t really suck her. She couldn’t remember the last time her body felt quite this warm and she was acutely aware of another thump in her chest.

\---

His tongue flicked and rubbed her so intently, he might have been licking another part of her. A place he would happily lick, so long as she made him suffer for it. He tried again to suck and when he couldn’t, he nipped her instead. Giving her a small dose of her own medicine.

\---

She liked it more than she had expected and she endured his nip with a little smile. Finally she pulled her tit from his mouth and leaned down to kiss what was left of his lips, ending it in a nip. “I think it’s time we got back to business.” Though now she was certain that it was not only his cum that had her wet between her thighs.

\---

He was somewhat disappointed when she pulled away, but he didn’t think about it long because he was taken aback when she kissed him. The nip made sense, but the kiss… He wasn’t so sure about the kiss. Perhaps to her it was no different from the rest of this. Another tease. He met her eyes and with a short nod, he responded, “By all means.”

\---

Widow reached for her tools, this time plucking up the whip. “I made this just for you.” The nearly translucent strands attached to it were cut from the same wire she used to repel from buildings in her work. The same wire that bound Reaper now. But these were thinner and wickedly sharp. She drew back and then lashed him with it, smiling when she saw dozens of little gashes appear on his chest.

\---

He eyed it with interest, recognizing it for what it was meant to be, but uncertain of the material. That uncertainty went away as soon as she used it, his body stiffening from the shock. He let out a breath he hadn’t even realized he was holding, looking down at the damage. “You flatter me,” he finally answered, amused that she’d taken time to craft a tool just to torment him.

\---

"I aim to please." His arms had gone largely ignored since they'd begun and she decided to remedy that. She lashed one way, then the other, leaving crossing cuts over one of his bound arms. She didn't doubt that some of the wire had hit one of the tears in his flesh.

\---

His hands curled into fists, straining against the wire and his knuckles turning white. The first lash was bearable, but the second did dip into a wound and he cried out. It wasn’t like his screams from before. The pain wasn’t quite as intense, but it was much sharper than the whip had been on his skin alone. 

\---

She turned her whip on the other arm, lashing him and smiling when a bit of wire caught briefly in a wound and she had to tear it free. It had to be excruciating but it didn't slow her down, her arm moving in sweeping arcs to lash him over and over. 

\---

This was the first time that she’d given him pain alone. There was no pleasure to accompany this and it was white hot. He was screaming through his teeth and thrashing, his arms smoking considerably as she layered wounds all over them. Were his hands not bound, he would have pulled away.

Even as it built to a point that had him struggling to twist his arms so she wouldn’t strike the same place too many times, his cock was stiffening considerably.

\--- 

The sound of the wires ripping against his skin and his sweet screams made her heart give another heavy thump. It felt good. When he was struggling enough that she thought he might phase out of his bindings, she finally let up, letting him catch his breath and heal up a little. Her eyes fell to his cock and her fingers wrapped around him, stroking him to reward him for enduring the vicious beating. 

\---

He was left panting harshly and bloodied, his arms tinged in red even as the wounds began to seal. He was trembling and his teeth remained grit, even after she started to touch him. It was a breath of fresh air, but his body was still alive in pain. The pleasure, welcome and wanted, was only a blip in a sea of agony. 

\---

"Mon cher…" She purred, loving the sight of the great Reaper shaking and bleeding beneath her. And he'd beg her for more if she stopped. She leaned down and ran her tongue over the tip of his cock.

\---

Her voice was a pleasure in of itself. Especially when she purred like that and _especially_ when she said shit in French. He had no idea what she was saying, but he had heard enough to know it was some sort of pet name. Nothing particular to him, but one that she used from time to time when mocking others. 

He let out a slow breath when she licked him, watching her with a hard to read expression. There was so much sensation swirling through him, he was struggling to sort his thoughts.

\---

She met his gaze, wrapping her lips around him and giving him a hard suck. Her eyes held a glint of playful malice they only ever got when missions went well and her body count was high. She wanted him to have this moment of calm to let the old pain start to ebb away before the new pain began. 

\---

Reaper’ eyes were heated, the look she was giving him sending a lick of pleasure up his spine that had nothing to do with her sucking him. He was carefully controlling his breathing, knowing that it wouldn’t be long until it was completely lost to him. “You like this,” he murmured, knowing that he’d chosen well. He’d thought she would and it was clear that she was. 

\---

"This makes me feel…" She considered a moment as she trailed off. The fact that it made her feel anything at all was a shock. She moved up on the bed and leaned so she could put one of his bound hands to her chest. It was cool, but not icy, and though there was nothing at first, there was eventually a weak thud. 

\---

At first, he thought she was allowing him a grope, but when she held his hand against her and he felt her heartbeat, his brows rose. He knew that her heart still technically beat, but he’d learned over the years it only happened at the height of a kill. He’d hoped that this would strike the same sort of appeal. 

“They won’t like that.” If Talon found out that their invaluable sniper was getting her thrill elsewhere. He couldn’t care less what they thought and in truth, it satisfied him that they were doing something they wouldn’t approve of. 

\---

"It isn't their business." She wouldn't enjoy killing for them any less just because she found something else that woke her cold heart. While he was close, she moved his hand to her breast to give him a chance to touch her. 

\---

“It isn’t,” he agreed, his voice low. He felt the soft flesh in his hand and he squeezed it eagerly, his thumb brushing over her nipple. It felt so satisfying to touch a woman, any woman, but especially a woman with a body like hers. With her leaning over him the way she was, there wasn’t much to see, so he switched between tipping his head back to look at her chest and looking down at her slit.

\---

She hadn't expected to, but she liked the way he touched her. It felt good in a way she hadn't experienced in such a long time. Eventually she pulled away from his grasp and after considering him a moment, she leaned down to offer him the nipple he hadn't gotten to taste yet. 

\---

He leaned up as much as he could to treat this breast like he had the other, working his tongue against her with skill that was rusty, but there. It felt like a reward as much as her sucking his cock did, but he was starting to crave the pain again. 

\---

It was so pleasant and she let him toy with her for longer than she'd intended. She reluctantly pulled away from him and took up her whip once more. She turned away from him, looking over his legs. They'd taken a little damage from her dagger, but they'd also been largely spared as his arms had been before she'd treated them to a lashing. 

\---

His eyes drifted to her ass when she turned away from him, but eventually they rose to what he could see of her face. The amount of thought she was putting into this surprised him. He’d thought the only pauses she’d give him was to make it more intense when she started again, but she had stopped to consider what she was doing several times already. He was glad that she was at least thoughtful enough to treat his entire body, not just his torso, and he had an idea of what was coming. 

\---

With her decision made, she raised her arm and began. She wasn't aiming for his wounds, but the vicious strands of wire didn't discriminate as they flared out against his flesh. She was striking his thighs for the most part, but she felt another warm beat of her heart when some stray strands hit his balls as well. They would heal quickly, she was sure, but the pain would be exquisite. 

\---

His reaction was much like what it’d been as she worked his arms, but when the whip caught him somewhere he wasn’t expecting, he yelped and his entire body twisted, putting his back to her as he curled up on his side, his arms awkwardly strained from where they were tied to her bed. “Widow…” This time his voice was dangerous, but the way his heart pounded wasn’t all bad.

\---

She was pleased when he turned to evade her and she wasted no time in lashing wide arcs in the newly exposed flesh. "I've broken no bones…" She murmured to him rather sensually as she watched the gashes appear on his back and his ass. 

\---

His back arched and he flailed, teeth gnashing as he fought the urge to scream, but unable to hold back whenever he struck a tear in his skin. Still, he kept his back to her, the instinctual need to protect the balls she’d struck was stronger than any other part of his body. 

\---

She listened to the song of his screams for awhile, but eventually she slowed to a stop. She needed to let him recover a little before the pain lost its edge. She set her whip aside and used both hands to pull him onto his back once more, knowing how much it would hurt while the gashes were fresh. Widow straddled his hips once more and rubbed herself against him, wet enough that his cock slid smoothly along her slit. 

\---

He groaned pitifully when she forced him to his back and it wasn’t long before he was begging. He could feel how slick she was and he wasn’t thinking about it beyond that. He needed to be inside her and he was begging incoherently for her to ride him. 

\---

It had the effect she'd hoped for. She smirked as she watched him, rubbing his cock very slowly against herself. "Tell me what you want, mon trésor." She knew what he wanted, but she wanted to hear it on his lips. 

\---

He flexed his arms, the wire cutting deeper and deeper into his wrists. “Ride me.” The words were weaker than he’d like to admit. He flexed his arms again, harder, the wood of her headboard creaking. “Ride me,” he repeated, his voice stronger. Demanding. 

\---

"Maybe. If you're good." She was so enjoying watching him struggle. Hearing the need in his voice. She leaned down over him, running her tongue along his jawline and ending it in a rough bite. 

Then she climbed up his body, straddling his face now and looking down at him, her wet slit just out of his reach. "If you can please me, I'll give you what you need." She said before she moved low enough for him to work her with his mouth. 

\---

That was a development that he was not expecting. Even if she was wet, he hadn’t thought she’d want pleasure. He had no problem giving it to her, though, as a part of his own satisfaction. She was putting herself before him and that was exactly the sort of thing he wanted in this. Her satisfaction above his. He started to lick her, finding the coolness of this part of her stranger than any other. Usually women were so warm here, especially when they were this wet. 

\---

The feel of his warm tongue was nice against her and it pulled a soft sound from her. She hadn't known she would ever crave something like this again. She didn't know if she could actually get any release, but at least this still felt good to her. She watched him, her eyes dark and unusually hungry. 

\---

It had been a long time since he’d tasted anything besides his own blood. Hunger was not a concern he had, his body absorbing energy through other means. Much like his body, anything food he touched turned to rot. In that way, this was almost a novel experience. His tongue rubbed against her clit insistently as he buried himself into her. 

\---

She'd genuinely forgotten how good this felt. She moaned softly and found herself rocking against his tongue. His body was her plaything for the afternoon, but this was not at all how she'd intended to make use of him. 

\---

He listened to her sounds and it made his cock strain harder. Even though he wasn’t getting anything himself, he longed to be inside her. For her to fuck him and make those sounds with him deep inside of her. 

\---

It was almost a little unnerving to give herself over to this. To indulge in something she hadn't needed since she'd been alive. Her back started to arch and her moans grew more steady as she let him lap at her. "Ne t'arrête pas…" But the more the tension grew in her, the more she yearned for control. She wanted him shaking and needy and soon she was turning around, her slit still against his lips as she eased herself down over his body to wrap her lips around his cock. 

\---

He grunted when she took him in her mouth, but he didn’t let it distract from what he was doing. It was an entirely different angle at which to lick her, but he made do, sliding his tongue all over her. Not only against her clit, but along her folds, lapping up the slickness that was so tempting to him. 

\---

Widow moaned around his cock, sucking him with more fervor than before. It was wonderful and her hand found his balls, kneading him and sometimes squeezing him. Some of these squeezes were gentle, some of them were meant to hurt. 

\---

Reaper snarled when she squeezed him hard, his body tensing and thrashing. His thighs squeezed together, as if to protect himself, but it did nothing to actually do so. He retaliated by turning his mouth and biting her inner thigh hard enough to leave a mark. 

\---

She jolted, surprised by the rough bite. She gave his balls a softer squeeze and ran her tongue over the length of him. A silent assurance that she would be a little kinder to his sack since it seemed he didn't enjoy her abuse there. 

\---

He spent a while simply struggling to catch his breath, before he leaned back into her pussy. He tried in vain to suck her, but was no more successful than he’d been before. He had to rely on his tongue, so he did that, rubbing it against her relentlessly. 

\---

His tongue seemed to be doing plenty for her. She pushed back into it as she took him as deeply as she could in this position. She breathed in low moans against his cock, her thighs beginning to shake as her fingernails raked along the top of his leg. 

\----

His own breath was coming in shudders. His hips pressed up into her mouth, his legs bending so his feet could find purchase on the bed beneath him. His sounds were quieter, distracted as he was but what he was doing, but it was obviously still intense for him. 

\---

She wouldn't have thought it possible but the tension in her body suddenly seemed to snap. She cried out, though the sound was muffled by the cock in her mouth, and her hips rolled desperately against his tongue. She was left trembling, though she'd never stopped sucking him through her release. 

\---

He carried her through her release, his tongue rubbing until she herself stilled. Then he tipped his head back, his neck stretching as he thrust himself into her mouth as roughly as he could. He wasn’t far behind as his groans were gaining substance. 

\---

She shifted away from him a little when she was finished, finding a better angle to take him deeper into her throat. She continued to claw at his thigh, encouraged him to fuck her mouth so she could swallow him down again. It wasn’t much pain to offer, but she'd given him plenty as she'd worked up to this orgasm. 

\---

When he came this time, it wasn’t as explosive. He growled, slamming himself into her mouth and holding himself there as his thighs shuddered even after it was over. It’d been a long time since he’d orgasmed so many times and already his body was beginning to tire, but it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t the torture he wanted.

\---

She swallowed what he had to give, not surprised that there wasn't as much. His body could only give so much. She sat up and looked down at him, studying him as she had before. 

\---

There was a sheen of sweat on his skin as he looked up at her. This time he wasn’t as concerned about her staring and he stared right back, waiting to see what she intended for him. He wondered if she really was going to ride him like he wanted or if there was still no appeal in such a thing. Somehow he doubted it, not if she wanted hilt to eat her out.

\---

"I'm going to hurt you in ways you've never dreamed of." She promised him, reaching for the scalpel she'd had heating over the flame. She didn't know if he could endure this one. It would be a shame if it ended their game. 

\---

His heart was pounding. “Wait.” He didn’t know what she had in mind, but if she really thought that whatever she was going to do with that blade was going to be worse than what she’d done so far, then he wanted to be prepared for it. “Tie my feet too.” 

\---

She smiled a little. "Oui, mon cher." She'd do better than that. She placed the blade over the candle once more, then rose from the bed to gather her wire. She secured his ankles, then went about crossing her wires over the rest of his body, tying them to the bed and to each other to reinforce their hold. How fitting that he was now truly caught in her web. 

\---

He’d not been this helpless in a long time. Not that he was actually helpless. As far as he was concerned, it was impossible for him to be helpless, but while he allowed her to keep him in place with her wire, he was incapable of stopping her. It was refreshing to be splayed in such a way and he tested the binds, finding that they held him securely. 

\---

She knew he could escape her if he really wanted. There was no way to truly incapacitate him so long as he was conscious. But this was the next best thing. She leaned down to give him another brief kiss, running her tongue over his upper lip. She wanted to taste herself on him. 

\---

He let out a shallow breath between his lips and then returned the kiss tentatively, his own tongue slipping out to tickle hers. It still felt strange to him, but… He really had no problem kissing a beautiful woman.

\---

Her tongue danced with his, but she didn't let the kiss linger long. When it broke, she took up the scalpel once more. The handle was hot, but she could tolerate gripping it. The blade glowed with heat. 

\---

His eyes found the scalpel and he watched it impassively. At least, he looked impassive. His pulse was racing and the sweat on his skin was building, this time in anticipation of what was to come. He’d wanted her to burn him and the wax had been mild compared to the hot metal.

\---

Her eyes fell to the wound she'd poured the wax into. That was the one she wanted. She gave him no further warning before she plunged the scalpel's scorching blade into the open tear. 

\---

He was so intent on the blade that he didn’t see where she was looking. What she was planning. He felt it, though, and the sound he made was unlike any other. A shriek so powerful that his throat couldn’t handle it and it closed and he went silent, his body fighting the wire wildly. When he inhaled, the sounds he made were pitiful.

\---

The sounds she won from him were so satisfying. She gave him a moment to recover, then she pushed the scalpel into him once more, twisting the blade to break up some of the wax that had cooled in the wound. She was glad she'd reinforced his bindings. 

\---

He moaned miserably. Her choice of tear was sadistic and he was straining his body so much that even that hurt. His expression was twisted with distressed and it was so intense that his eyes were pricked with moisture. When he realized this, something in him shifted and he started to laugh, the sound rumbling through his chest. 

\---

The laughter surprised her and she respected him for it. That he'd crossed a threshold of agony like this and could still laugh. She didn't relent, using the hot blade to dig cruelly at his wound. 

\---

The laugh didn’t last long. It shifted into a whimpering sound so unlike him. He was shaking so violently that his teeth were chattering, even as he grit them so hard they felt like they would crack under the pressure. There was another little burst of a chuckle, but that too drifted into agony. 

His skin was losing what little color it had and he was feeling faint.

\---

She could see him starting to fade. She'd wondered if he could endure this, but she was pleased his body was breaking rather than his spirit. He hadn't phased out of the wires. She finally pulled the blade from his side and left him on the bed, returning a moment later with a glass of cool water. She sat at his side and used a hand to tip his head up. "Drink. We're not finished here." She said as she put the glass to his lips. 

\---

He was out of it when she returned to him and he didn’t understand when he saw the glass in her hand, but as soon as it was placed at his lips, he reacted instinctively, drinking the water. It wasn’t exactly easy and he spilled over himself, but he managed to swallow a respectable amount.

\---

She didn't expect him to be able to drink it without a bit of a mess. But at least he was hydrated a little and it might help bring him around. She set the glass aside, then reached for his cock, giving it a squeeze. She wanted him to rouse in that aspect as well. 

\---

The touch made him whimper again, but when he heard himself, he dug his heels in. He took deep breaths and he managed to get a handle on the litany of sensation that his body buzzed with. He was beyond words and all he could do was breathe harshly, waiting for whatever Widow had in mind for him.

\---

She placed her scalpel back over the flame and looked him over. "You don't look like you're going to pass out on me anymore." He still didn’t look good, but he looked better. She squeezed and rubbed him, giving him something pleasant after the torture. Though she imagined at this point he was probably so sensitive even the simple touch was its own torture. 

\---

He growled his protest. He was Reaper. He was the Angel of Death. He didn’t ‘pass out’. As stubborn as he was being, it was clear that her touches were difficult for him. That they were more unpleasant than pleasurable at this point. Even so, his cock, which had been uninterested in the throes of extreme torture, was thickening slightly. 

\---

It was encouraging to feel him start to thicken in her hand. Then his body wasn’t shutting down completely yet. He probably didn’t have much more left in him, but they weren’t done yet. She kept up her touches, wanting to thicken him to the point that she had something to stroke. 

\---

He was so weak and it was strange for it to come from something like this. He knew that it made sense for it to make him feel this way, but he’d never experienced anything like it. The only time he felt like this was after a particularly rigorous battle on the rare occasions he was actually challenged.

Though his body was reluctant, her insistence was rewarded and he was stiff in her hand.

\---

When there was enough to work with, she started to stroke him. “Do you still want me to ride you?” She was genuinely curious. Was he still lusting after her at this point? Or was he so spent he no longer wanted it?

\---

In what would have probably looked funny to an outsider, his eyes focused at the inquiry. He was more intent on her. “Yes,” he breathed, his voice even raspier than it usually was. 

\---

Widow smirked at that. “Good.” She was glad he had that much left in him. She straddled his hips once more, starting to rub him against her slit. She was still wet from before and she was surprised to find she was still sensitive from her release, the feel of his cock pressing into her clit quite pleasant. 

\---

His heart was still pounding and it was nowhere near calming, but when she started to rock herself against him, he was serene. It was still too much, but after the too much he’d experienced before, it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle. Besides, there was a beautiful woman rubbing herself on his cock.

\---

She was in no hurry to progress things, curious how well he could tolerate the rubbing. He looked comfortable enough for the moment. That was good, she didn’t want him to faint when things got going again. 

\---

His breathing was measured and every now and then, one of his inhales would shake, but otherwise he showed no other sign of what she was doing to him. His eyes raked over her, from her face to her chest; from her slender waist to her thick hips. There was a lot to look at it and there was nothing to complain about.

\---

She stretched out over his body, the wires between them as she settled on top of him. She ran her tongue slowly along his neck, her fingertips sliding along his arms. They touched him rather aimlessly, but she was flirting with the wounds she’d pressed her nails into earlier.

\---

He shut his eyes, his expression concentrated. He could feel what she was so close to and there was that dread in him. Not enough to stop her, not when this was what he wanted, but the emotion was enough that he started holding his breath entirely. Waiting for it. Not even sure it was going to happen, but expecting the worst.

\---

She didn't dip her fingers into the wounds, but she stayed so close to them. A constant threat. She was grinding against him slowly, her breathing deepening. It still felt good to her. She kissed a spot on his neck just before she sank her teeth into it, biting him hard. 

\---

The bite was nothing compared to what she’d already done and when he finally let out his breath, it was with a sensual groan. He wished she would untie him, even if it wasn’t what he actually wanted. His immediate needs were clouding what he actually wanted from this. He would be disappointed if she did, once it was done and over with. 

\---

When she felt him release the breath he'd been holding, she waited a beat, then her fingers skirted over the wounds. She didn't want him to relax too much. She wanted the threat of searing pain to keep him on edge. "I didn't think this would wake my heart. Or other parts of me…" She breathed the words against his skin, then found a new place to bite down on his neck. The stimulation was so nice and she was starting to grind against him for her own benefit, not only to tease him. 

\---

He choked, the sound much different to the one he’d made just moments before. His body kept teetering into feeling like it was out of his control, he always managed to bring himself back together. She hadn’t broken him. This was no different and so with the dread fulfilled, he was… calm. 

As calm as he could be shaking and covered in sweat.

“You lied to me,” he agreed, her warnings about how she was incapable of such things had clearly been bullshit.

\---

"I was wrong." She corrected, having meant what she said at the time. Her fingers pressed cruelly into his wounds and she was curious if he still had enough energy to scream. 

\---

He gave her what she wanted, thrashing and screaming. The sound was weaker than many of his previous screams, though, and he rolled his head side to side, needing some way to express the pain physically since the binds allowed him no movement. 

\---

She smiled when he could still scream for her and eventually she eased up on his wounds to let him recover. "Reaper…" She moaned his name softly, rubbing herself on him harder even as he writhed in agony beneath her. 

\---

He’d never heard his name... _this_ name said quite like that. In her voice, it would have been enough to thicken him if he wasn’t already straining against her cunt. “Do it, you fucking bitch,” he snarled at her, his cock aching from the stimulation. He needed it to ache even worse.

\---

"Do what, mon cher?" She asked, her tone of mock innocence. She reached back and positioned him, pretending she meant to mount him. But instead just kept grinding on him. 

\---

He tried to press into her, but he couldn’t do more than flex his muscles. It was so frustrating, his teeth gnashed together. “Fuck me,” he demanded, his fingers clawing at air.

\---

"Maybe. But that's no way to talk to me." She sat back and backhanded him sharply across the face. She hadn't done something so simple as just hitting him and it was so satisfying. Her slit rested on the shaft of his cock and she gave her tit a squeeze as she watched him. She wasn't sure she really wanted to fuck him. It would surely feel good to her, just as his tongue had. But it still wasn't something she felt that she needed and she so enjoyed watching him beg for it.

\---

The slap made him growl, but there was a brightness to his eyes. Like when she’d had enough of his shit and choked him on her panties. He liked that he was being punished. “I wouldn’t have to if you would be a good girl and do it already,” he answered in mocking.

\---

"I never claimed to be a good girl." Her fingers trailed down his chest in a light caress, but they were unmistakably headed toward the wound in his side she'd burned and cut. "Ask nicely."

\---

As ragged as his breathing was, it would be hard to tell that it picked up at the threat. It seemed that she had broken him, at least a little, because when he spoke this time, there was a hint of genuine plea when he quickly answered, “Please.” It wasn’t only what she wanted to hear.

\---

She smiled, detecting the honesty in his tone. "That's much better." When her fingertips reached the wound, she rewarded him by only grazing them lightly over the ruined flesh. 

\---

Even that was enough to steal his breath. It really wasn’t fair - she had such an advantage over him in the form of those wounds. Wounds she didn’t even have to create herself to torment him. “Widow…” 

\---

It was fun to see something so light and gentle have such an effect. She'd done a lot to him in that spot. She raised her hips, grabbing his cock to position him once more, but still didn’t let him enter her. She just resumed using him as a tool to rub herself against. 

\---

“Widow.” His voice was filled with anger and desperation. “Please,” he repeated, hating that he was begging in such a way, but so satisfied that she’d drawn it from him. 

\---

"Since you asked so nicely…" It felt like the right time, as deep as his need for her was. She sank down on him slowly, her own breath catching in her discomfort as she was stretched for the first time in so long. 

\---

He hissed, but the more she took him, the more it shifted into a moan. He looked down to where their bodies were joined, finding it almost surreal. Again, he wished he was untied, but the fact that he couldn’t anything but let her fuck herself on him was the best part of this. It was the only reason he wasn’t phasing out to take over.

\---

Widow began to ride him incredibly slowly. It felt nice and after he'd waited so long to be inside her, she meant to make it worth his wait. She watched him with dark, contemplative eyes, deciding how long she would let him have his pleasure before the pain set in again. 

\---

Her body was so cool it sent a chill up his spine as she plunged herself onto him. The pace was awful and delectable all at once and as sensitive as he was, he squirmed beneath her. He couldn’t take his eyes off his cock and the way it parted her lips, the way they pushed and pulled on him, leaving behind a sheen of her arousal.

\---

She let him enjoy the show for awhile, the pace still painfully slow. Eventually she reached for the scalpel balanced over the flame. She wondered how good it would feel to kill him like this. To watch the light fade from his already haunted eyes while he was still inside of her. Her heart gave a painfully hard thump, but she shook her head to herself. She mustn't get carried away. 

\---

He knew what she was doing. He saw it out of the corner of his eye, but he wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of looking. Of letting her see the twinge of fear of knowing what was coming. Fear was refreshing, but he was stubborn and she didn’t need to know that he was afraid. 

All that really mattered was the pussy cruelly teasing him, anyway.

\---

She leaned down over him and kissed his lips once more. He was pressing into her at a different angle this way and she moaned softly against his mouth. "Do you still sleep, Reaper?" She asked when she broke the brief kiss, touching the searing blade against his skin where his neck met his shoulder. 

\---

It wasn’t quite a scream, the sound too subdued for that, but he cried out against his teeth. He let out a huff immediately after, his lips curled. “Yes.” He didn’t need as much sleep as he used to, but he still slept. He didn’t know why she was asking him that, though, as it couldn’t have less to do with what they were doing.

\---

"Good." She finally started to ride him with a little more speed, not enough to really get them anywhere, but enough that it wasn't agonizingly slow. "I want to make you dream about me." She used the hot blade to slice into the flesh she'd burned. "I want your nightmares to be about me too."

\---

If he could have pulled the pain off his face, he would have smirked. He moaned, but it was at the point that it was hard to tell if it was good or bad. It was both. “What about you?” he breathed, the words labored. They were hard to get out. Would she dream of him? 

\---

"I still dream." She liked how much he was struggling to talk. She twisted the blade inside his muscle. "I think I'll have sweet dreams of you." Trapped beneath her as her plaything. 

\---

Again, he couldn’t scream, but the sound he made was miserable. Pathetic moans that made him sound weak. He felt his control fading and he was starting to become delirious again. She’d done it. She’d overwhelmed him pleasure and pain and the tethers he’d been stubbornly holding onto were snapping.

\---

He sounded almost pitiful and she was so pleased. She finally started to ride him in earnest, moaning under her breath now that they were fucking properly. She let go of the scalpel, but left it buried in him as she looked down at him with a smirk. 

\---

He was groaning with every breath, his eyes rolling back as they fell shut. He felt the scalpel sticking out of him, but he was barely aware of it. Even when her jostling brought with it bright flares of sensation. Inside her, he was throbbing, but he had cum so many times that he felt nowhere near to cumming again. 

\---

"Mon trésor…" She purred out the words, watching him lose himself to sensation. Her fingers wrapped delicately around his throat. She wanted to choke him, but she couldn't bring herself to silence his moans just yet. Instead she lingered that way, hoping that as desperate as he was for air already, he would dread the threat of her taking it from him. 

\---

He felt the fingers against his neck, but the threat didn’t even feel real to him. It was just another thing holding him in place, another bond to keep him under her thumb. As scintillating as everything else she was doing to him. His pulse was pounding beneath her hands and she would feel every ragged breath.

\---

She could feel his heart racing under her fingers and it fascinated her. He felt so alive to her, but she knew it wasn’t true. He was no more closer to being alive than she was, just a ghost of who he used to be. She added pressure with her fingers, cutting off his air and using the leverage of bracing her weight on his throat to fuck him harder. 

\---

He tried to gasp, but he couldn’t. His mouth fell open, as did his eyes, but even when he looked at her, he didn’t seem to see her. His entire body was rigid with tension, as if to stop what was happening to him, but he remained where he was. He wanted this. He’d asked her for this and she’d timed it perfectly. It made every slam of her hips throw him into ecstasy and he looked like he was going to pass out as his cock throbbed dangerously. 

Suddenly he felt like he was on the edge of cumming. The change was drastic, but she’d more than earned it. 

\---

She watched him struggle for air and only when she was sure he couldn’t take much more before he would faint did she let up. She allowed him no more than half a breath before she was bearing down on his throat again, riding him wildly. She didn't want him to pass out before he came but she wanted it to be dangerously close. 

\---

The inhale he was allowed was taken dramatically, but it was cut off and he choked. He was lightheaded and dizzy and when he finally came, his eyes rolled a final time. It was unlike anything he’d ever felt, so good that he felt like the world was sinking away from him and he was somewhere else entirely. 

\---

The heat inside of her when he came was jarring but pleasant. She rode him even after she was sure he was done, knowing he would be extremely sensitive but also knowing that he was probably too far gone to be tormented by it. 

She stared down at him, fixated on his face. She could kill him right now. It would be so easy and there was no way he could stop her. She wouldn't even need a weapon. All she had to do was keep choking him after he passed out and he would just slip away. 

But she didn’t. Eventually her hips slowed to a stop and she eased her fingers from his throat. 

\---

He coughed as soon as he was released, taking several gasping breaths. He would have to recover from this, but he didn’t intend on doing that here. As soon as he could think, his form dissolved and he left her straddling nothing on the bed, empty. He reformed so he was standing at the end of her bed, where his things were strewn, though he didn’t seem to be all that steady on his feet.

\---

She was surprised when he fell away and she was left alone on the bed. She turned to face him, his seed rolling down the inside of her thigh. "You've had your fill, I take it?"

\---

He hummed his affirmation, looking down at himself. He was covered in blood and his wrists and ankles in particular were mangled. He grabbed the scalpel from his shoulder and let it fall to the floor. Then he stooped, grabbing his mask first and foremost, and fixing it in place. That was much better and he continued to dress, though he was slow about it. It was obviously taking effort for him to do so. He was obviously hurting.

\---

She sighed softly. It seemed their play was finished. She rose from the bed and began the process of cleaning up the mess. She looked forward to taking a shower when he took his leave - she was covered in all sorts of bodily fluids she'd drawn from him. 

\---

Reaper was dreading the shower he would have to take. Showers were unpleasant affairs for him, but he still had to dig out whatever wax remained in his wound. When he was fully dressed and looking like himself, he twisted to look at her. His eyes raked her body a final time and then he was smoke once more, seeping out of the cracks in her door.

\---

Her body was cooling, her heart still once more. It had been good while it lasted. She hadn't seen him vanish, but when she looked his way again, she wasn't surprised to find he was gone. She wondered if she had sated all that he was needing or if he would ask her to do this for him again. It made no difference to her. 


	3. Chapter 3

Widowmaker hadn't spoken to Reaper since their afternoon together. They'd exchanged glances in the hallway, but otherwise had gone their separate ways as if nothing had happened between them. 

They were assigned to work together, which was nothing unusual, and the start of their mission had been filled with the normal, comfortable silence between them. There was a lull in the job, as there often was, and she repelled down from her previous vantage point to where Reaper stood waiting, hanging gracefully by the same sort of wire she'd used to bind him to her bed. She dangled upside down, her legs crossed over the wire that held her, her back arched in a dancer’s posture. She stayed suspended in the air just above him, watching him thoughtfully. 

\---

Reaper heard the familiar sound of her swinging through the air and he didn’t have to look to know where she was. “You left your post,” he pointed out, his way of asking what the issue was. There was no reason for her to do so, not when she could easily communicate with him via her earpiece, if need be.

\---

"If there was anything to see up there, I would have seen it." She would only be away from her post briefly. No movement would have escaped her sight. "Do I have a time limit on how long I can wait to cash in the favor you owe me?" Her tone was playful in a way it usually wasn't unless she was taunting her prey. 

\---

He looked over to where she was hovering above him, though her face was rather level with his. “What do you want?” He was somewhat interested in what she would ask of him, being one that did little beyond what she was told. She didn’t have a vendetta, not like him. She was Talon’s through and through, with no desires of her own. They had made sure of that. 

\---

“Nothing at the moment. That’s why I’m asking if I can save it for a rainy day.” Not that any of her days were typically more sunny or rainy than any others. 

\---

“That’s usually how favors work,” he answered, a little amusement in his voice. “Is there a reason for bringing it up?” She wasn’t just bringing up a favor he owed her, she was basically bringing up what she’d done to earn that favor.

\---

“I’m not used to favors.” She was pleasantly surprised that he was amused rather than annoyed by her talking about it. “I bring it up because I haven’t seen you since that day. Tell me, Reaper, have you dreamt of me?” She purred his name much as she had when he was in her clutches.

\---

He hadn’t dreamt of her - he didn’t dream at all - but he’d thought about it. A lot. “Wouldn’t you like to know,” he replied, satisfied that she had no power over him out here. Even if he was drawn to her, even if he’d liked the power she’d exerted over him, it wasn’t something he wanted outside of a bedroom. “Though I wonder why you would like to know.” 

\---

She chuckled under her breath. “Keep your secrets, then.” Maybe she hadn’t kept the hold over him she’d been hoping for. Not that she had much capacity for disappointment.

\---

“Seems like you’re the one with secrets.” She was awful quick to retract her question when he turned it on her. “Maybe it wasn’t really a favor for me.” She had gotten a lot out of it, after all.

\---

“I had my fun, but it was all for you. You didn’t even let me finish.” Not that it mattered. He was the one who’d needed release, not her.

\---

That had hardly been a part of the deal. “Is that what this is about? Is that the favor you had in mind?” She wanted him to get her off? He’d gotten her off once. He could do it again. 

\---

She shook her head. “No, I may need that favor for something else some day.” She wasn’t looking for another orgasm. But she did want to know if having him in her web a second time would make her feel alive again. “I’m only saying it was for you.”

\---

He studied her and then reached for a handful of the thick ponytail dangling beneath her. He pulled her in by it, until they were face to face, with nothing between them but his mask. “...I don’t think it was.”

\---

Her eyes were bright and dangerous when he grabbed her, her muscles tensing. “Then you should have stayed until I was done playing with you, mon cher.” If she’d had her way, she would have torn him apart until he couldn't move, much less walk back to his room. 

\---

“It seemed to me you were out of ideas,” he challenged her, his free hand lifting to turn off her earpiece. They’d said enough to be damning - there was no need to let them hear more. He let a clawed finger trace the line of her jaw, the sharp point threatening to cut.

\---

She smirked, the caress of the sharp claw giving her spine a pleasant chill. “I was giving you fresh torment right until the last moment. You should have stayed.” She repeated in a soft purr. 

\---

He’d never seen her like this. With anyone, but especially him. He wasn’t sure what to think, but it seemed he’d woken something inside of her. She seemed to want him, so with that in mind, he drew one of his shotguns. He didn’t look as he aimed it at the line holding her up, shooting it and snapping it. 

As she tumbled, he let the gun fall and he caught her in his arms. In a smooth motion, he righted her on her feet and pushed her back to pin her against the building with his body pressed into hers.

\---

Her smirk fell and her eyes shot open when he drew his gun. She had no time to react before she was falling and in the instant she was trying to tuck her limbs to land gracefully, he’d already snatched her from the air. Her alarm turned to wary amusement when she found herself pinned by his weight. Her fingers brushed over one of the wounds she’d abused before, now safely hidden away by his armor. That was what she really wanted. 

\---

He lifted a hand to turn off his own earpiece and then, hesitantly, he eased his mask off. He did not like taking it off out in the open, but they were alone atop a tall building. It was unlikely anyone would ever know they were there.. He met her gaze, his own intense, before he leaned in and kissed her.

\---

It was interesting to be on the receiving end of a kiss. It hadn’t meant anything to her in bed. Just a hint of sweetness to contrast all of the cruelty. Right now...she wasn’t sure why he would kiss her. She answered it, curious what he intended.

\---

The mask fell to join his gun on the ground and his hands dipped into the space where her catsuit revealed her skin. He started to part it, pulling it aside and trying to push it from her shoulders. 

\---

In the back of her mind, she knew she should stop him. They were on a job. They might not be able to afford a distraction like this. But his impulsive behavior was interesting and she let him pull at her catsuit. She hadn’t gotten a chance to see what he would do if he had the freedom to do what he wanted with her.

\---

It was tight and hard to work down, so when he pulled it off enough to reveal her breasts to him, he paused to squeeze both of them. Again his claws pressed into her and he couldn’t feel it nearly as well as if he removed his gauntlets, but that wasn’t a concern to him. 

\---

She made a soft sound against his lips when the points of his claws pricked her skin, kissing him harder. She liked the way it felt when he touched her there. Just as she’d liked it before. She paid keen attention to her heart, curious if it would react. A flutter even, if not a proper beat. But it stayed dormant and her flesh was still icy.

\---

His hands found her suit again and he continued to push it down. There was no easy way for him to get to what he wanted and he wondered, with a flicker of frustration, how she pulled it on each day. He continued to push, trying to at least get it past her hips. That was all he needed. 

\---

He could have had an easy time with it had she helped, but she let him struggle with the tight fabric. "I have to get back to my post." She finally broke the kiss to say with a little reluctance. "You can come over tonight if you want to finish this, mon cher." As if it was a conversation they could simply resume later. 

\---

He stopped, pulling back to look her in the eyes. His own narrowed slightly and then he pulled back from her completely. He leaned down to grab his mask and gun, before stepping away so she could pull herself together. He went so far as to shadow step onto another building, trying to piece together her intent.

\---

She was surprised when he withdrew from her completely. She watched him for a moment, then started to tuck herself into the catsuit. Surely he realized what might happen to them if they let themselves get too distracted in the middle of a mission. 

\---

He didn’t know what to make of her. The invitation suggested she didn’t want to stop this completely, so why had she stopped him at all? He knew that they had a job to do, but… It really didn’t feel all that risky to him. It wouldn’t take long. Was she simply toying with him? He wasn’t sure whether he wanted to stop by or not, but he had the rest of the day to think about it.

\---

When she got back to her post, she lowered her helmet and scanned the street below. "Merde." Sure enough, the men carrying the package they were meant to intercept were already past the checkpoint they'd been watching. "Reaper." She waited for his answer, remembering after a beat that he'd turned her earpiece off. "Reaper." She said more urgently when she turned it back on, hoping he'd remembered to do the same. 

\---

It didn’t occur to him that his earpiece was off and he was too busy brooding to be paying attention to what was happening below. He was too busy thinking about Widow and whether or not she was fucking with him now that he’d shown her that he had needs. That he had vulnerabilities. 

\---

"Reaper!" She tried to signal him, but if he wasn't looking up at her, it would do no good. She didn't want to miss her shot and she aimed her rifle, training her sights on the forehead of the man in front. They could still do this if Reaper wasn't prepared to capitalize on the ambush, but it would be a sloppy job. Talon wouldn't like that they kept turning off their earpieces, but they wouldn't tolerate such a simple assignment being botched. 

\---

He walked to the edge of the building, but thoughtlessly. Even as he looked out, he wasn’t looking for what he ought to be and the building he’d escaped to did not offer him the view that the one he’d abandoned did. If he were still on that one, he might have seen what was happening below. 

\---

Widow wet her lips with a swipe of her tongue as she squeezed the trigger. She exhaled when the bullet hit its mark, her heart giving a heavy, wonderful thump. She could hardly savor it - before the man's body hit the ground, the others had drawn their guns and they were firing in her direction. Most of the shots were far off, but one bullet was close enough she heard it buzz past her ear. She was on the move, racing to escape their fire and look for an opportunity for another shot of her own. 

\---

He heard the sniper and startled, twisting and looking up to where Widow was stationed. He saw her pulling back from her scope and he snarled, running in the direction of the checkpoint. He leapt off the building and just before he hit the ground, he shifted to smoke which pooled from the momentum of the fall. When he reappeared, he remembered that his earpiece was off and he quickly turned it back on. He drew both of his shotguns and hurried forward, following the sounds of the firefight, throwing himself into the middle of it, and pumping the first man he saw with a gut full of lead.

\---

She smiled to see that her partner was right on cue. "10:00, Reaper." In the heat of the moment, she forgot that his earpiece was probably still off. She was used to being his eyes from above and it was instinct for her to call out the direction of the closest threat to him. She took another shot, striking a man trying to make off with the parcel right in the throat. 

\---

He twisted, like clockwork, aiming his gun in the direction of her warning. He caught the man in the face and already he was onto the next, his eyes scanning for the parcel. “The package?” he asked, assuming she’d seen it since she’d taken her first shot. 

\---

The only operative left alive had snagged it and was hiding amidst debris in an alleyway. It amused her that he likely thought she couldn't see him. "Hiding in the north alley. I don't have a clear shot, he's all yours."

\---

His eyes went to the alley and, with little urgency, he made his way into it. His eyes scanned his surroundings and when he spotted the man curled up, trying to make himself as small as possible, he chuckled. He stepped right up to him, a lick of satisfaction rolling up his spine when the man looked at him in terror. 

He holstered one of his shotguns and out his hand silently, satisfied when the man offered the package to him without hesitation. He slipped it into his cloak and then his other shotgun echoed through the alley. 

There were the sounds of sirens in the distance, but Reaper returned to the scene, visiting each body. By the time he was done, there were only dried husks left behind and only when the sirens were much too close for comfort did he disappear.

\---

Widow started moving to the rendezvous point as soon as she heard the final shot. The mission was finished and all that was left was to make sure they made a clean getaway. Her body was warmer than usual and her heart had been thrumming for a few brief moments. Reaper's touches hadn’t done it for her, disappointingly, but the kills had made up for it. Perhaps they needed to go further for him to warm her blood.

\---

Reaper appeared beside her when they were almost to the rendezvous point. Waiting was a car that had been planted just for their escape. Completely different to the car that they had arrived in. The door was unlocked when he reached it and he slid into the driver seat without a word. 

He pressed a button on the dash and it roared to life. As soon as Widow climbed in next to him, he took off.

\---

"Mission complete at…" Her eyes found the clock on the dash. "1345. No complications." She turned off her earpiece and looked to Reaper as he drove. She knew it did no good for her to chase the high, her body always grew cold and dormant so quickly once the mission was over, but she couldn't help but try. He'd gotten her heart going the last time they were together and she wanted to keep this feeling while she had it. She reached to run her fingers lightly over the inside of his thigh, testing the waters for his reaction. 

\---

His hand shot down to hers and he was none too gentle in the way he shoved it off of him. “Don’t toy with me,” he warned her. In the heat of the moment, he was still uncertain of her intentions. He wasn’t some toy for her to play with, even if that was what he’d made himself in the time they’d shared.

\--- 

It seemed the waters were frigid. She sighed and withdrew her hand. "I'm not trying to manipulate you. Now that the job is over, I meant to pick up where we had left off. It's the only reason I brought things to a stop." She knew she'd crossed him and she'd meant to make the drive back more pleasant for him to make up for it.

\---

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. He drew his own earpiece out of his ear, turning it off and throwing it aside. She had technically been right. The delay could have made things messy… but Reaper didn’t mind messy. “You wanted me to fuck you?” he asked, leaving no room for an answer that required any explanation. Either she’d wanted him to fuck her or not. 

\---

"Yes." There was no reason to be less than direct about it. She didn't know if it would make her feel alive or if that had only come from torturing him. But it had been pleasant and she wanted to see what it would do for her without the context of hurting him. 

\---

He looked at her again, this time turning his head. “...Why?” It was a far cry from her telling him that if he wanted a passionate night, he ought to look elsewhere. He found it a little hard to believe that their time together had really changed anything, so either she was lying then or she was lying now. 

\---

"It felt good. I didn't think it would, but it did." It had been surprisingly pleasant, even if she still didn't feel any real drive for sex other than her curiosity. "I want to know if it will make my heart beat again."

\---

For a while, it seemed he wouldn’t respond. Then he pulled off the road and into a dump of a parking lot with more pot holes then asphalt. He threw it into park, but didn’t bother turning it off. “Take off your clothes,” he told her, waiting to see if she would comply. If she didn’t, then they were done with this. If she did, then he didn’t have to deal with it himself.

\---

Her eyes never left him as her fingers slipped into the opening of her catsuit, sliding it with practiced grace off of her shoulders. It wasn’t all that easy to get out of it in the seat of the car, but she managed and soon she was sitting beside him in only her panties. 

\---

He watched her, his eyes taking her in hungrily. He wasn’t as hungry as he’d been on the building, but she was still a sight. His hand reached down and he shifted his seat so it slid back and left more space in front of him. Room for her to occupy the space. He looked at her expectantly, wanting her to climb onto him and straddle him. 

\---

Widow took the invitation, sliding over the console between them and settling into his lap. She wanted to know if it would feel different this time now that he was free to touch her as he pleased. She touched his mask lightly, asking silently if she could take it off. 

\---

He’d intended on leaving it on this time, wanting this to be a short and simple affair, but when she touched it, he answered with a nod. His hands stroked down her sides, before reaching around to squeeze her ass. A part of her that he’d had yet to feel and yet was constantly in his face whenever they were together. 

\---

She pulled his mask off and set it aside, meeting his gaze. She liked the feel of his strong hands on her ass and she leaned in to kiss him rather softly. This time she didn't want to hurt him, as tempting as it was. She needed to know what it was like when he wasn't agonized. 

\---

The tone of the kiss was not what he was expecting and it made him wary. He put his own heat into it, his fingers slipping into the delicate fabric of her panties and tearing them. She didn’t need them, not the way she needed her catsuit. He didn’t care about them as he tossed them on the floor at his feet. 

\---

She smiled against his lips when she felt the fabric tear away. It seemed he didn't want things _too_ soft and she responded with heat in turn. Her hand slid down between them and she gave him a firm squeeze, curious if he was getting hard now that he had her completely bare. 

\---

He was rather hard and as soon as she touched him, he sacrificed one of his hands to start working on his own pants. It took a lot of effort with all his belts in the way, but with some finessing, he was able to release himself. 

\---

When he was free, she pressed herself against him and started to grind on him. She wasn't particularly wet, but she was hoping the stimulation would change that. "Reaper…" She purred against his lips, intrigued by the way their bodies pressed together even if it wasn't doing anything to stir her heart. 

\---

He liked the way she said his name. He liked the way she said most things, but especially when she said his name like that. He rolled his own hips into hers, helping with the stimulation while his hands explored her body eagerly. It would still be easier without his gauntlets, but there was something nice about touching her this way, knowing that his claws were trailing along her skin as he took his fill of her.

\---

The stimulation did indeed help and she felt herself getting wet. Her body was still cooling, still coming down from the hunt, which was disappointing, but it didn’t matter. This would still feel good and perhaps it would help restore some of Reaper's trust in her after their misunderstanding earlier. 

\---

He reached for her ponytail again, pulling it and forcing her to crane her neck so he could lick a long line up it. She, at least, tasted nice. Even if her skin left his tongue chilled. He worked his way back down and bit her collar. In a spot that was risky. It might or might not be covered by her catsuit.

\---

Widow let him have his way, moaning softly at the warm slickness of his tongue on her skin. She didn't care where he marked her. So long as it didn't affect her performance, she didn't think Talon cared what she did. As it was, people were so seldom close enough to her to see a mark on her like that. 

\---

After a few more licks, he let go of her and slipped his hand down between them again, positioning himself. He wasn’t patient and he started to press into her, wanting her to ride him again. Except this time he would be able to meet her and feel her body as it bounced on against his. 

\---

It was uncomfortable, as it had been the first time, but not intolerable. She sank down onto him with a slow exhale. It was nice to be filled by him, the warmth in her body a unique and pleasant sensation.

\---

Reaper made a quiet sound of his own, enjoying the way he breached her. For him it was only good. He took hold of her hips and started to thrust up into her. He looked at her, his eyes lusted as he fucked her. There was a time where he would have never thought this would happen. Where making it happen was the least of his concerns, but it seemed he had something else to share with his partner. 

\---

She liked the way he was looking at her. Even after her reconditioning, her vanity remained somewhat intact and it pleased her to have his undivided attention. She rode him hard, finding it much easier this time with the momentum of his hips rising up to meet her. 

\---

He was all for the pace she set, pounding into her. He grunted from time to time, but otherwise the sound that filled the car was their skin slapping. This was certainly making up for before and he was no longer so sour about the way he’d been interrupted. His eyes lingered on her face the most, but they did occasionally drift to watch her tits and to where they were joined.

\---

Widow was fairly quiet, wanting to hear his sounds and occasionally giving little moans of her own. If her heart was going to beat, she thought it would have by now. It seemed hurting him was what had roused her and the sex had no impact. At least they gave it a try. 

\---

As far as he was concerned, this was going well. The longer it went, the more he lost his breath. The more he groaned. Simple as this was, that was what he wanted and so when it started to build, he was quick to follow through, fucking her deseperately to take him to the end.

\---

It was good, but it wasn’t as intense as his tongue had been. She reached down between them to rub her clit as she rode him. That helped significantly and she moaned, her eyes locked on him as he grew closer. 

\---

He was aware of what she was doing and his lips quirked slightly, but the expression didn’t last long. He stared into her eyes until he was thrown the edge, his head then tipping as he slammed into her and spilled. His groans had reached a peak and now they were turning into heavy breaths, a slight sheen on his brow.

\---

She rode him until she was sure he was finished, then slowly eased to a stop. She leaned in to steal one more kiss while they were both still catching their breath, then climbed back into her own seat and started to dress.

\---

He returned the kiss while it lasted, looking at her as she left him. “...Are you going to fuss that you didn’t finish?” He hadn’t felt her orgasm, so he assumed she would be upset that she had not. He could drop a gauntlet and give her a hand, if it would make her more amenable to this arrangement of theirs.

\---

"No. It only means that this one wasn't a favor for me either." She said with a playful little smirk as she slipped into her catsuit. It was a little more difficult now that she was wet and sticky between her thighs. 

\---

His eyes narrowed once more, though it wasn’t as serious as before. She seemed like she was teasing, but perhaps it was one of those teases that had truth behind it. Perhaps there was a jab behind it. He reached down to slip himself away. “If you don’t enjoy it, then don’t do it.” This was said lightly, though it had that same truth to it. He reached for his mask, but he didn’t put it on immediately, his fingers running over the edge of it.

\---

"I enjoyed it. I wouldn't have brought it up again if I didn't." She had initiated their banter during the mission and she had started things up in the car again. "It feels good." It was interesting and the responses from her body that had been long dormant intrigued her. 

\---

His expression relaxed and the contentness - though that wasn’t quite the right word - in it was not something she would have ever seen before. That no one would have ever seen before, considering what he held in his hands. Considering who he was. 

“Then we can continue.” He glanced over at her out of the corner of his eye, to see if she would deny him.

\---

When she was dressed, she removed her helmet and released her hair from its ponytail. She shook her long locks, then smoothed them back into a fresh, sleek ponytail with her fingers. She studied him, not sure what to make of his expression. "When you're ready." She agreed. She didn't know how often he had such needs, but when he did, she could try this again and see if it made her heart beat. One failed attempt didn't make the experiment conclusive. 

\---

He slipped his mask back into place and then backed out of the parking lot. He continued down the road - they still had a lot to do before the day was over, but he was pleased with the turn of events. He could use her for a fuck from time to time and perhaps he could even have his fill of pain when he needed it next.


	4. Chapter 4

It was a casual meeting, but Widowmaker was hardly dressed casually. She wore a long, elegant burgundy dress that complimented the hue of her skin. Her lipstick matched her dress and an intricate necklace glistened in the bright light of the meeting room. 

Talon knew that her money went almost exclusively to her wardrobe. She had no hobbies or vices, save for the occasional cigarette. Her vanity was something they'd failed to completely suppress and it was something that both frustrated and intrigued them. Ultimately it was decided that she would not be discouraged. A beautiful woman had more potential to ensnare an enemy than a homely one, so it only made her more lethal to let her put work into her appearance. 

She was attentive through the briefing, particularly interested in the missions she could do herself or with a single partner. Some jobs required bigger teams, but she much preferred to work alone or with someone she trusted to be competent. Someone like Reaper. 

When they were all dismissed, she started out, her high heels clicking softly on the floor as she walked. They were free for the rest of the day, but she would prefer to be working. The sooner they assigned her a mission, the better. 

\---

Reaper had little patience for meetings. They were important and he would concede to that, but unless they were talking about Overwatch… He struggled to care. He did a lot for Talon, though, a lot outside of his own interests, and it was in his best interest in keeping the organization powerful, so he went along and paid attention. 

During the meeting, Reaper had kept his distance from Widowmaker, but as they were leaving, he timed it so they would reach the door together. He let her walk through first and as he passed the threshold himself, he caught a grope of her ass. He frequently stole these little touches whenever he was near her, putting in a cursory effort to stay subtle. 

He wasn’t subtle enough, however, and the eyes watching them rolled. “Estos dios,” Sombra sighed, though her expression shifted to a little smirk as she slipped out after them. She stealthed, turning invisible so that she could trail after them without being seen. She’d been watching them over the last few days and though they’d hardly interacted, she’d done enough digging to have plenty of dirt on this relationship of theirs. Initially surprising, she couldn’t care less about it beyond what she could extort.

She didn’t know whether they were running off to fuck, or if they were parting, and she needed them together, so she hastened to step in front of them and when they were about to walk into her, she appeared, her arms crossed, shoulder leaning into the wall. “Why hello, Gabe,” she greeted Reaper with a cheeky smile. 

Reaper growled under his breath. “Sombra.” She knew he hated her calling him that, which was why she continued to do so. 

“So, you two, huh?” She looked at Widowmaker, curious about her… part in this. “Pensé que tendrías mejor gusto.” If she had any taste at all. It seemed otherwise. 

\---

"What do you want?" She asked, her tone icy. It seemed they'd been a little too overt and someone had caught on. She didn't think for a moment Sombra would stop them to tell them she knew unless there was something she meant to gain from it. 

\---

The insult did not pass by him and he was sure Sombra knew that. She knew all about his past and she knew that he knew Spanish as well as she did. He didn’t engage, though, waiting for her to answer.

“Want? Me?” She flicked her hand and several hologram screens filled the space between them. The most obnoxious was a screen of moving audio waves as the sound of skin slapping and groans filled the hall. The one next to it showed them atop a building. The camera itself was distant and at an odd angle, the pair clearly not meant to be the focus, but the footage was plain enough - Reaper pinning Widowmaker to the building and pulling at her clothing. 

The video beside that one was, of Reaper outside Widowmaker’s room, shifting to mist and slipping beneath her door. Sprinkled in on smaller screens were still images that she’d caught of his stolen touches.

“The two of you could stand to be a lot more discrete.”

“Where did you get that?” Reaper demanded, taken aback by how much there was.

\---

Something inside her was aware that she should be angry. Or frightened of what may happen to them. Or...something. But there was nothing to read in her expression as she looked over the incriminating screens. It was interesting to learn just how closely they were surveilled. "What do you want?" She repeated.

\---

“Well, Gabe, when you start turning off your earpiece, people tend to take notice.” She’d been alerted to it the very first time they’d turned off their earpieces to have a conversation in the middle of a mission. From then, she had been watching them. “You’re both estúpido if you think they don’t bug the cars.”

Reaper folded his arms, not surprised. He should have thought of that… He knew this agency well. He knew what lengths they went to keep everyone in line. He didn’t trust them anymore than they trusted him.

She swiped her hand through the air and let the screens disappear. “Want? You make me sound so selfish, flaca.” She looked at her nails, as if the conversation wasn’t all that engaging. “You should be thanking me - if I hadn’t scrubbed the data, it wouldn’t be me that you’re talking to.”

\---

She folded her arms over her chest, not unlike Reaper had. She was patient, but she'd prefer the conversation to be direct and to the point. "You wouldn't have scrubbed it if there was nothing in it for you. You kept copies for yourself. What will it cost to keep you quiet?"

\---

“Aw, and here I thought we were friends,” she answered, her eyes lifting with a smirk. 

“Get to the point,” he growled. “Or better yet, don’t. Tell them. I don’t care.” Yes, it was better for this to remain a secret, but this wasn’t something he was interested in being threatened over. 

Sombra’s brows rose, as if his reaction was unexpected. It wasn’t. “You know, you’re right. What will they do to you, really?” She shrugged. “She’ll be the one to take the fall and who knows what they’ll do to her, but that isn’t really your concern, is it?”

\---

Widow glanced to Reaper, knowing she was right. They wouldn't do anything to him. She'd be the one to suffer for it, but she didn't expect him to care. She would rather this stay quiet, but if both of them meant to let Talon know, there was little to be done about it. It wasn't as if she wouldn't be reconditioned at some point anyway. 

\---

Reaper felt her eyes and he turned slightly to look at her himself. He shifted his weight and then his arms fell, fingers curling into fists. “What do you want, Sombra?” He sounded pissed.

That was better. Now that they were both interested in what she wanted, she smiled, stepping closer. “Nothing in particular. Yet.” She had the dirt and she wanted them to know it so that when she did need something, there wouldn’t be any hemming and hawing. Any arguments.

She took another step toward the man radiating rage. She’d seen the full footage on the building. She’d seen that he’d removed that mask of his. She was curious. “I just want us to be friends.” She reached for it, finger brushing the edge of it, before her hand was thrown aside. She snickered, backing up as he took a threatening step towards her. 

“So what do you say? Favor por un favor? I continue to scrub the data and when I need my friends, they help me out?” She didn’t doubt there would be more data - they might be more careful from now on, but they would still slip up. 

\---

She was surprised he didn’t hold his position. Maybe he preferred she stay as she was now and not how she would be whenever Talon was finished with her. Her eyes returned to Sombra, equally surprised that she had the nerve to touch Reaper’s mask, no matter how much dirt she had on him. “Consider it done.” Her tone was still frigid. When Sombra decided to cash in that favor, she’d decide if it was worth doing or if she’d let her do what she wanted with the data. 

\---

With a ‘hmph’, Reaper strode off, leaving the women alone. 

Sombra looked at Widowmaker with mirth in her eyes. “Pobre pequeña araña.” She winked and then her body dissolved as she translocated back to her room and, likely not entirely inaccurately, to safety.

\---

She didn’t speak much Spanish, but it was close enough to her native tongue for her to know she’d like to smack the smug look right off the girl’s face. It was good to be alone and she went off to her room in silence, other than the rhythmic click of her heels. After that little grope, she’d wondered if Reaper would come to her room after the meeting. Now she imagined he’d find some more violent way to blow off steam. 


	5. Chapter 5

The following week was quiet for Widowmaker. Her two most recent missions had been solo, which was a little unusual. She was starting to think maybe Sombra ratted them out after all. That perhaps they were keeping her and Reaper separated while they decided what was to be done with them. 

She'd caught glimpses of her recent playmate in the hallway, but they hadn’t been close enough to each other to talk. Or even to see if he had any remaining interest in stealing touches when they passed each other. Maybe getting caught had dissuaded him and he wanted things to be strictly professional between them again.

She was passing the time in her room, currently tending to the plants in her enclosures. The glass cases were opened and she was using a delicate pair of scissors to trim the vines that were growing too large for the limited space they had, careful to disturb the spiders' silk as little as possible. 

\---

Reaper had been keeping himself busy, tracking the movements of a former Overwatch agent that he was trying to apprehend. The man was on not only on his list, but Reaper was fairly certain he had access to information that he wanted. That Talon wanted. As such, he’d been left to his own devices and he’d made productive use of that time. 

The incident with Sombra was in the back of mind, but he’d basically gotten over his anger. The woman had some nerve trying to blackmail him, but she had no idea what he had on her. Something much more substantial than simple blackmail and though he hadn’t made any indication of it - if she tried to fuck with him in a way that went beyond tattling on him for sleeping with a company asset, he would destroy her.

When he returned to Talon headquarters that evening, he decided to see Widowmaker. It was a spur of the moment decision, like many of their recent interactions. He was on his way to his room, but when he came to an intersection in the hall that led down two different paths, he decided to detour and stop by hers first. It had been a while and he would benefit from the stress relief - a temporary release until he got what he was really looking for. 

He wasn’t expected, but in the interest of leaving as little evidence behind as possible, he tapped lightly on the door in warning, before slipping inside the same way he had the last time he stopped by.

\---

She was setting down her scissors to answer the door when the dark mist poured into her room. "Reaper…" It was a pleasant surprise. Had she been expecting to see anyone, she would have primped more. As it was, she wore one of her more casual skirts and her hair was down. "I was starting to think that silly little girl had convinced you to stop seeing me."

\---

He scoffed. “I’ve been busy.” He wasn’t sure he’d call what they’d been doing seeing each other, but he supposed it was building up to that. He was here, after all, and he imagined it wouldn’t be long before he was here again. “Why? Has she been bothering you?” He looked her over. Every time he saw her, she seemed to be wearing something different. Whether that was actually true or he paid so little attention to what she was wearing that he didn’t recognize repeat outfits, he didn’t know.

\---

"She's not _that_ foolish. I just haven't seen you since that day." She set her scissors down and traded them for a pair of tweezers. She plucked up a big, wriggling green hornworm from a container at her side and dropped it into the webbing, watching to see if her pet would emerge from her den to capture it. "I was a little surprised you agreed to her terms for me, but I imagine I know why." She lifted her eyes to him. "If they damage me too badly, you'd have to settle for the next best sniper they can find for your new partner."

\---

“I’m here, am I not?” He approached her slowly, eyes taking her in. He couldn’t care less what she was doing or if he was +interrupting her from doing it. He paused when she went on, but then he closed the distance completely, setting his hands on her sides. “Why do you assume it had anything to do with you at all?” In truth, it had, but he also meant what he was saying. He had his reasons. 

\---

She made quick work of closing the lids on the enclosures before she gave him her full attention, draping her arms around his shoulders. It felt good to have his hands on her again. "You wanted her to tell them until she reminded you of what they might do to me." He'd only had a change of heart after that. "I'm not accusing you of caring about me. I'm only saying I was surprised."

\---

He supposed she had a right to be surprised. Loyalty was a strange, warped thing in Talon. He wouldn’t expect her to put herself on the line for him anymore than he would for her. He’d learned that lesson in Overwatch. “You’re my partner.” Not the only person he worked with by any means, but the one he worked with the most. “I prefer you as you are.” Particularly lately.

\---

"I'm flattered." As much as she could be flattered, anyway. She pressed a little closer and ran her fingers lightly over the edge of his mask. They were partners. She preferred to work with him above anyone else. 

\---

“Are you?” He felt her fingers on his mask. Unlike when Sombra had touched it, he didn’t mind her wandering fingers. He hadn’t minded since the first night when he’d willingly removed it himself. If she’d tried to touch it before then, he would have reacted much the same. His fingers stroked along her sides and stomach.

\---

"Oui." She liked the way his hands felt on the thin satin of her top, finding they moved so smoothly over the fabric. "You are my partner. I wouldn’t want them to change you either."

\---

One of his hands drifted down to her skirt and he started to gather it up. “I don’t know if sentimentality suits you.” He found it intriguing that she invested in him at all, but they did have an understanding. They’d worked together for long enough that things were… simple between them. Unspoken.

\---

"It doesn't suit me." There was no sentiment. It was simple fact. They worked well together and she didn’t want him changed. She hitched her leg around him, making it even easier to hike up her skirt. "But you suit me."

\---

He suited her and she suited him. He slid his hand up the back of her thigh and stroked the curve of her ass. Then he reached for her other leg with his free hand and pulled it up so she had to hook her legs around his waist. He walked her back into a wall, pinning her not at all unlike the way he had on their last mission together.

\---

She wrapped her legs around him, but her hold on him was loose. She trusted him to take her safely to wherever they were going - he was more than strong enough to support her lithe body. Widow didn't wait for permission to pull his mask off this time. Once her back was against the wall she pulled it off, letting it fall to the floor as she kissed him hard. 

\---

He returned the kiss, using his weight to keep her in place so his hands could continue to wander. He reached for her panties and, again, he tore them free. He didn’t know how many pairs she had, but he was not concerned about her supply. He’d tear every pair of panties she owned from her body if she continued to wear them in his presence. 

\---

She had plenty, but she would have to buy more if he made it a habit. Maybe she'd buy sexier panties for him to tear off her body. She sucked on what remained of his lower lip, her fingers pushing his hood back and sliding into his hair. 

\---

The feel of her sucking his mangled lip bordered unpleasant, but… It felt good that she didn’t simply ignore it. It wasn’t a bad sensation, just strange. The hands in his hair, however, was extremely pleasant. He started to work on his belts, letting them fall with a thump to the floor. His gauntlets followed and as far as he was concerned, that was enough.

\---

"Mon cher…" That pet name still felt appropriate right now. But _mon trésor_ … that would only be if she got to have him at her mercy again. She didn't know if that was something he'd want a second time. Since then he seemed content with simple pleasure. She tightened her legs around him, unable to grind against him as she would have liked while she was pinned this way. 

\---

He drew himself out, having a much easier time of it with it when only his pants were in the way. He pressed them together and gave her the grinding she wanted, his bare fingers wandering over what exposed skin he could find. He’d teased himself with all manner of touches since the last time they did this, but now he was finally putting his hands on her properly. 

\---

His little grabs and gropes were amusing, but she far preferred having his hands all over her this way. She sighed in pleasure, angling her hips to help the grinding put pressure in just the right places. Not only did it feel good to her, but she needed to be wet when he was ready to push into her.

\---

The skirt was bunched up enough to not be in his way, but her top was, so he grabbed it and started to pull it off of her. This, at least, he didn’t rip, and as soon as it was free, he was fondling her. “Tell me how this feels,” he murmured, brushing their lips together and then following it with a little lick.

\---

She smirked when he pulled her top away, finding it interesting that she ended up bare but it seemed he liked to stay dressed for this sort of thing. “It feels good.” A simpler answer than what he wanted, she was sure, so she elaborated. “I like your tongue.” When he licked her lips, her skin, her pussy. All of it. “I like when you touch me like this…” She moved a hand to one of the hands on her breast guiding it so his thumb brushed her nipple in a way that felt especially good to her. “And when you push right here…” The hand dropped to his cock, guiding it to where his head pressed to her clit, liking the pressure she got there at the start of each roll of their hips together.

\---

He smirked, putting more pressure between their hips as he grinded into her. He thumbed her nipple with her guidance, taking over after she showed him what she liked. Her pleasure wasn’t as important to him as his own, but it was a lot more enjoyable when she was enthusiastic.

“What about when I’m here?” The hand at her breast paused as he used the other to shift his cock lower. To tease her entrance. Question posed, he moved it back up to her clit to resume his motions, wanting her nice and warm for him. At least, warm in so far as welcoming.

\---

“I like that too.” She purred to him, her tone shifting to something pleasured when he was touching her in all the right ways. “You feel so warm inside me…” Not that she’d had a normal man inside of her to compare it to since she’d been altered.

\---

That was too tempting for him and he couldn’t resist shifting himself again, rubbing himself between her lips. He was glad she liked it, because it was what he liked most of all. He strayed back to her clit a handful of times, until he couldn’t help himself and he slid into her with a satisfied sigh.

\---

It wasn’t as uncomfortable when he pushed into her this time. The teasing had helped her get wet enough and it seemed her body was starting to grow used to these intrusions. She moaned under her breath, liking the way the gravity of being up against the wall helped her sink down on him since she couldn’t move her hips all that well like this. She reached down between them to start rubbing her clit, deciding to try it from the beginning this time. 

\---

He started to take her, firmly and steadily. With the sort of efficiency he demonstrated in most facets of his life. He was amused by her rubbing herself right away - maybe this time she’d cum on his cock. He used a hand to brace himself against the wall, while the other resumed its play with her tits. 

\---

It was a lot better with the added stimulation. She tipped her head back against the wall and closed her eyes, focusing her attention on the variety of sensations in her body. She was able to concentrate on the way it felt a little better this time because she was so passive in this position, taking his thrusts rather than riding him actively.

\---

He was less desperate for it than he had been the first time. He was no longer in a dry spell of years, so he was a little more patient. Not much, but a little. With her neck exposed to him, he leaned in and started to lick it. She’d said he liked his tongue, after all. His warm breaths played on her neck and from time to time, he softly voiced his own pleasure.

\---

Her moans were soft, but regular as his tongue heated her neck at the same time his cock heated her from the inside. This was better than her experience in the car had been, though she’d found that enjoyable as well. She was rubbing herself steadily and as tension built inside of her, her back started to arch, pressing her breast more firmly into his hand.

\---

He felt the change in her and he responded by pumping harder still. He had to let go of the wall to grip her thigh, pressing even more of his weight into her as he gave her what he thought she needed. What he himself needed. “That’s it,” he breathed, finding a soft spot of skin to bite tenderly.

\---

It seemed he got more out of it when she expressed more pleasure. “Reaper…” His name came out in a soft, breathy moan, her thighs tightening around him even more. She liked the way her muscles were tightening and the tension was making her arch and even start to shake a little. She wasn’t so disappointed anymore that it still seemed to have no impact on her heart. The other sensations were still worth it.

\---

The sound of his name made him shiver. The last time a woman had said his name like that, it had been a different name. It was gratifying to hear a woman moan his true name. Not the name he had been born with. “Widow,” he responded, a hint of amusement in his voice. His pace was quickening the longer he went on, the sensation building up for him too.

\---

She started to shake harder and in the final moments, her free hand was clutching at his cloak with a very unusual fervor. She gasped when her orgasm hit, her muscles tightening sharply around him. It was intense and for that fleeting moment, it felt almost as good as the moment of a kill.

\---

He groaned when she came, the feel of her clamping down around him throwing him into his own state of desperation. To fuck her while she was still so tight. He started to gasp with every breath and it was only a handful of thrusts before he was cumming himself. He emptied himself into her and when he had nothing else to offer, he leaned into her, resting his forehead on the wall beside her head as he caught his breath.

\---

While they both recovered, her thighs loosened around him. His weight was still holding her to the wall, so she kept her legs curled around him just the same. It was definitely better when they both got off. She could feel her muscles still pulsing lightly around his cock even after her orgasm had passed, which was interesting. She hummed in contentment when she caught her breath, enjoying the heat inside her body while it lasted.

\---

For a while, he was content to stay as they were, panting chest to chest, but eventually he slipped out of her and helped her find her feet. He took a step back from her, his eyes taking her in as he tucked himself away. He liked her when she was half-naked and not so pristine. 

\---

It was definitely unusual to see her so disheveled, her long hair tangled from the whole event. She smoothed her skirt down, then reached for her top to slide it back on. She didn’t particularly like to be seen when she wasn’t properly groomed, but this felt like an exception. She liked the way he was looking at her.

\---

He reached for his things, starting with his belts. An amusing thought occurred to him as he fixed one around his hips. “When you shower, is the water hot?” He was curious if she enjoyed a steamy shower. He wondered if after her skin was warm, if only for a brief time. 

\---

"Sometimes. It's usually cold, but once in awhile I want it hot." Though her idea of hot water was probably quite different than most anyone else's. 

\---

He was tempted to suggest that they shower together sometime, but it would be a miserable experience for him. So much so, he wasn’t sure he’d enjoy it at all. He fixed another belt in place and as his eyes wandered her sparse room, he noticed something he hadn’t the first time.

He stared at the photograph from a distance, before making his way over to it to take a closer look. He picked up the frame and his eyes fixed on Gérard. A man that he had respected and considered a friend. A man that had died before his feelings on Overwatch had completely soured and made him hate everyone that had ever been a part of it. Himself included.

He’d known him well and he’d even met his wife Amélie once. It was something that simply never went acknowledged between them. Widowmaker wasn’t Amélie, so there was no need to acknowledge it. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder what Gérard would think if he knew what he was doing to his wife these days.

There was a time where Gabriel might have been angry at her.

He wasn’t sure what he felt when he looked at him, but as he struggled to process his own thoughts, he turned his head to look at her. “Why do you have this?”

\---

"They gave it to me. An experiment, I would assume." To see if she had attachment to it. It made her a little wary. Maybe she hadn't been as covert as she thought when she'd visited Gérard's grave. 

"They were concerned when I requested my pets. They let me purchase four of them. I had them for nearly a year before Dr. Piper came in and ordered me to crush one of them. It seems my response was satisfactory, as they have let me keep the rest for years now. The picture is more recent. I'm sure they'll take it at some point." 

\---

“I see.” He looked back at it and then set it down. He moved over to where she kept her spiders, peering in on them. It seemed she took to her persona rather intensely. Just like he did. He flicked the glass on one of them, before turning away from them entirely. He returned to where his things were strewn on the grown and he pulled on his gauntlets. 

\---

Only one of her spiders was out - a vibrant purple tarantula that was busy eating the prey she'd dropped in when he'd arrived. 

Widow had moved to grab a brush, starting to work out the mess their tryst had made of her hair. "...Were you angry with me when I killed him?" He wouldn't resent her for it now, she knew. But things had been different then. 

\---

The question made him look up. “...Does it matter?” At the time, no one knew what had happened. Whether she had been a Talon agent from the start. Whether she had married Gérard to extract information from him and killed him when he was more of a nuisance than an asset. Eventually they learned the truth; her kidnapping had been genuine and they had brainwashed her while they had her, but it didn’t change anything. Gérard was dead whether she was innocent or not and there was nothing they could do to save her.

By the time he joined Talon, he’d stopped caring. When he ‘met’ her, it had scarcely crossed his mind.

\---

She studied him for a long moment, then shook her head. "I am only curious. You were friends." They might not have been close, but she knew they thought highly of each other. "But that was in another life." Gabriel had been his friend, not Reaper. 

\---

He reached for his mask and fixed it in place, followed by the hood of his cloak. “Most of the people I want to kill were my friends.” He said the word ‘friends’ derisively. The man he wanted to kill most had been his closest ally and he couldn’t wait until he put him in the dirt. “He was no better than they were.” 

But she wasn’t asking how he felt now, was she? Even if she was, he was having a hard time sorting out how he felt now. 

\---

"That's true. If I hadn’t done it then, he would be on your list now." She wasn’t asking about now, but that was alright. She didn't blame him for not reflecting on how he'd felt at the time. It didn't matter anymore. 

\---

When he was put together, he turned to her. “I’ll see you around.” He was effectively cutting their conversation and their time together short, but what else was there to do when they were done? He made his way to the door, intending on slipping out the way he came.

\---

"Adieu." She would see him soon. Whether it was on their next mission or if he stopped by to make use of her body again. She headed for her bathroom, meaning to take a shower before she resumed the maintenance of her pets. 


	6. Chapter 6

Widowmaker had been walking down the hall when she saw Reaper in one of the adjacent hallways. She had been waiting for an opportunity to speak to him without being so obvious as to go to his room. She couldn't simply phase beneath his door the way he could hers. 

She'd seen him plenty over the recent weeks. Mostly just in passing, but they'd also been making use of each other's bodies. In her room or out on missions if they had a quiet moment. There was no need to be all that careful. Either Talon would find out or they wouldn't. 

She turned, going out of her way to walk by him. There was no telling who might be listening, so she kept her voice down when she was close enough. "Meet me on the rooftop of Hazzard at 1900 hours. I have a gift for you." The bar she named was nearby, but not so close that she expected Talon to have any surveillance of it.

\---

Reaper was generally aware of his surroundings, so he saw Widow as soon she started down the hall. He was expecting that they’d simply pass each other with a nod of acknowledgement, so when she spoke, he straightened. He turned his head to follow her as she walked past, but otherwise didn’t respond. He didn’t have to. He’d be there.

\---

She didn't need a response. He would be there or he would find a way to tell her he couldn't be there. It had nothing to do with their current arrangement, she trusted he would do it out of the mutual respect they'd built in their time working together. 

When it was time for their meeting, she was sitting atop the roof. Finely dressed as always with a small purse draped over one shoulder. She dug a cigarette out of it and lit it, taking a slow drag as she looked up at the evening sky. 

\---

He had a questionable relationship with punctuality, but whenever there was somewhere Reaper wanted to be, he was pretty good about being on time. As such, the moment it turned 1900 hours, he stepped onto the roof. He approached her from behind, curious about why she’d summoned him out here. He was clueless as to what sort of ‘gift’ she would give to him, so he was assuming she wanted some more, safer rooftop sex. 

She was a little more concerned than he was about throwing a mission via distraction. At least, that sort of distraction.

\---

She didn't have to turn to know who it was. She knew the sound of his boots anywhere. "I've been working on a project for the last couple weeks. Collecting intel on a new weapons project Overwatch is undertaking ...I only needed a few days but I extended the mission a little." 

She'd collected more weapon data than she'd been assigned, so she hadn't gotten any grief when she finally turned in what she'd found. "I got Talon what they wanted. But I thought I'd take some separate notes for you." She reached into her purse again and produced a small stack of folded notes. Times that the engineers came and left, when they took their breaks. But far more importantly what times Torbjörn was there overseeing things. That both weeks she'd watched him, he'd stayed late on Tuesdays and left alone, more than an hour after the workers had gone.

\---

His brows lifted and he took the notes from her, unfolding them and starting to scan through them. It took a moment, but when he realized what he had, he slowly smiled. It was a hell of a gift. “Looks like I have somewhere to be Tuesday.” She’d somehow done better than him on his own scouting mission - something he was still working on. She’d found an opportunity to strike, whereas he hadn’t. 

\---

"It's worth looking into anyway. If I had tried to delay another week, I'm sure they would have suspected something. But two Tuesdays in a row is promising." It was something, at least. It wasn’t like her to stray from what she’d been ordered to do on a mission, but she’d wanted to. 

\---

It was. He sat down beside her, folding the notes back up and slipping them into his cloak. “...Thank you.” It wasn’t something he often said, but then it wasn’t often he had reason to. 

\---

“De rien.” She wouldn’t have thought to do such a thing before. When it came to her work, she followed her orders as closely as she could. But he had complied with Sombra for her sake and it seemed she should repay such rare loyalty.

\---

He looked out into the distance for a while, but eventually his eyes drifted to her. Her skin looked particularly nice in the darkening sky. It had been a long time since he’d had interest in a woman and even though he knew that what he felt for her was mostly lust, he was drawn to her even so. She was a good woman to be drawn to, he supposed, as she would never desire to complicate matters.

\---

She was watching the sky as well. This was a quiet place she liked to visit sometimes. On the weekends it was noisy, but on most evenings at least until the hour grew late and the patrons coming and going below were deep in their cups, it was peaceful enough. She drew deeply from her cigarette again and looked to him placidly. She had expected him to ask her why she’d done it for him, but maybe he didn’t have to. They were partners, after all. 

\---

He met her gaze when she looked back at him, but only for a handful of breaths. He looked back out at the horizon and then, eventually, he leaned back so he was laying. He stared up at the sky instead, folding his hands beneath his head. This was the sort of quiet that he was used to between them and… it was kind if nice to know that they could still have it.

\---

For a long time she was content to sit beside him that way. She was surprised that he hadn’t left the moment after she’d given him what he came for and it was nice that he had stayed. She wasn’t one that sought company, but his presence at her side was comfortable and familiar. Eventually she broke the silence, her eyes distant on the darkening sky. “If I don’t have an assignment Tuesday, I could go with you. I could watch, report his movements from above.” He was more than capable of working alone. But she could be his bird’s eye view, as she often was.

\---

He didn’t have to consider it long. “As long as you don’t take my kill. Unless you have no other choice.” He didn’t want her to steal the satisfaction from him, unless for some reason he couldn’t do it himself. He wanted the man dead more than he wanted to kill him, but not by much.

\---

“No, I would never.” She knew how much his revenge meant to him. It made no difference to her who killed the man, so long as he died, but it meant the world to him. She wouldn’t get the thrill of putting an end to a life, but she had so many other opportunities for that. “There is only one kill you may have to worry about me stealing from you and it isn’t him.”

\---

He turned his head, eyes falling to her back. “Who?” He was curious who she wanted to kill. Why was there anyone she’d want to kill specifically? He knew she enjoyed the thrill of it, but it never made any difference who it was as far as he was aware.

\---

“Ana.” She answered without hesitation. “She was supposed to be mine.” There was no way she should have survived, but she had. It was a botched assassination she meant to correct.

\---

He hummed. That made sense. “Then she’s yours.” If he didn’t get to her first. At least, that was his initial thought. Then he thought about what he had in his cloak and he decided that he wouldn’t take it from her. 

\---

“Thanks.” She smirked to herself as she thought. “Hmmm...I’d like to kill that fille naive that tried to stop me from killing Mondatta too. If we run into her together, maybe we could flip a coin for that one?” She wasn’t much for humor, but her tone was teasing.

\---

He gave a low chuckle. “Tracer. Annoying bitch.” He couldn’t stand her and he’d happily flip a coin for the chance to kill her, but she _had_ been a bigger thorn in Widow’s side than she had his. 

\---

“Those are the only two I want for myself. I’d best stop there. If I claim any more of them, you might add _me_ to your list.” She didn’t really think so. He’d ultimately probably be glad she killed them, even if he’d be upset with her because he couldn’t do it himself. But she didn’t doubt that if she did enough to cross him, he would kill her with little hesitation.

\---

He hummed, amused. “I don’t think Talon would like that.” Not that he gave a shit what Talon wanted. He looked back up, considering what it would take for him to kill her. A lot, most likely. He was curious what it would take for her to kill him. Probably just orders.

\---

“Since when have you cared what they would like? You would kill me if you wanted to.” They’d probably find some way to punish him. They’d put an unspeakable amount of money into making her into what she was.

\---

“If I wanted to.” He had no desire to. “Is that strange to you? That I only obey them because I want to?” More like because he had to in order to get what he wanted, but it was his decision all the same. He didn’t know how deep her reconditioning ran. If it would bother her that he was so disloyal to the organization. 

\---

“Yes, but I know that’s the natural way of things. Most people choose their alignment.” There were no choices for her. “You’re free to obey them or disobey them as you please.” It was just easier for him to obey, at least most of the time.

\--- 

She was strange, but her reconditioning likely resulted in many of the things he liked about her, so he wasn’t going to complain. They were on the same side, that was good enough for him. He hadn’t had a conversation like this in a long time, always so short with everyone. 

“There is nothing natural about either of us.”

\---

“Perhaps that’s why we get along.” Neither of them got along with anyone else particularly well. But they understood each other and that counted for something. She finished the last inhale of her cigarette, then crushed it out beside her as she blew out the smoke. 

\---

Perhaps. Or perhaps that had been stuck together so long, it had simply happened out of necessity. Whatever the reason, it worked. 


	7. Chapter 7

After his mission with Widowmaker had gone so poorly, he was determined to do it right this time. Not that it had really gone poorly. It simply hadn’t panned out. They’d staked out the location together and, of course, Torbjörn wasn’t there. It wasn’t that Widow had given him bad intel, just that the man had been sick. The smart thing to do would have been to retreat for another week and try to catch him then, but Reaper had been so angry that he’d gone in and killed a handful of men in the facility. 

A blow to Overwatch, which he liked, but it would put them on alert and it wouldn’t be so simple next time. Talon was displeased with him, but since Widow had already extracted so much information from the facility, it wasn’t the loss it could have been. The fact that he’d gone at all had been brought up, since he shouldn’t have had the intel he had. It came to light that Widowmaker had told him about Torbjörn leaving alone Tuesdays, but he’d had the good sense to make it seem like it was something she’d noticed mentioned to him offhandedly, not something information she’d actively sought out on his behalf. 

Then he told them he’d simply asked her to go with him when he tried to make the kill. They seemed to have bought it. 

No, this time he was going to get his kill. He’d finally found a chance to strike and he intended on taking it. This time he was running alone, or at least without anyone of note. There were a couple of Talon lackeys at his side, but they were meant to be a distraction, if need be, nothing else. This was his mission and his mission alone. 

He stationed the men outside the building. A warehouse of sorts. They could come in after him, if he signaled them. If things went the way he intended, he wouldn’t have to signal them at all. He needed high ground, so he shadow stepped to a catwalk and made his way in via a questionably secure door. As soon as he was inside, he drew his shotguns, his eyes on the security office situated in one corner of the building. 

He had to take out whoever was in there first. He kept his eyes peeled for complications, for cameras or personnel he might have missed when he had planned this. There was nothing, however, and as he made his way to the office, he slid his guns back into their holsters. Prefer them as he might, they were loud and it would be best if he kept the noise to a minimum until he reached his target. He could take care of whatever security detail was there with his bare hands. 

Outside the door of the office he paused, standing with his back to the wall beside it, to listen. Inside he could hear a television playing and he smirked to himself. Too easy. They would never even see what hit them. He twisted to step inside and was startled to see a man standing in front of him. A cowboy.

“Howdy.”

The flashbang went off right in his face and Reaper was stunned. A metal fist followed and he stumbled back as he came to, the shock of the grenade wearing off. 

“McCree,” he growled, quickly recognizing that this mission of his had been compromised. His hands shot towards his belt, his objective suddenly shifting. To killing the ingrate in front of him. Smoke started to gather around him, but before he could completely dissolve, there was a whizzing sound and then a pinprick. 

  
He looked down at his side, a dart sticking out of him. With a roar of rage, he dropped one of his shotguns to yank it out of himself, before aiming the other at the cowboy.

\---

Jack had taken his cue and moved in behind Reaper as soon as the dart struck. It was hard to be patient even for that long. It was so tempting to just put a bullet in his head - to put an end to him before he could cause any more damage. But instead, he whacked him with the butt of his rifle, enjoying the satisfying crack when it hit his skull.

Mercy was standing by, her heart pounding as she waited for Reaper to dissolve away from the ambush...or try to. It had to work. It _had_ to. If it didn't, there was no way she'd convince the others to let him live.

\---

The strike, while not enough to put him down, left him dazed, but aware that this was a true ambush. He was outnumbered. He squeezed the trigger reflexively and the shot rang loudly, but McCree easily dodged it. He started to shift again… or at least, he tried, but there was a strange delay when nothing happened. That was more disorinentating than the hit had been and though he whirled to try to take a shot at the attacker behind him in lieu of his escape, he was once again attacked from behind, this time from McCree taking the opportunity to try to grab his arms and wretch them back so he could tie them.

\---

Jack could hardly believe it was working. He hadn't shifted into black mist to escape them. He was all too happy to help McCree, punching Reaper in the gut to knock the wind out of him. He'd hit him as many times as it took to quiet him down until they could get him back to base. From there, he could let the good doctor see for herself that he was a lost cause and they could close this chapter for good. 

\---

Reaper struggled, though it was much harder when he was socked. As he crumpled slightly, the hand still holding his shotgun was twisted sharply and he had to drop it. He was thrashing, struggling like a wild animal, but also frantically trying to phase away. It had never been something he could maintain for a long period of time, but it had never failed him like this either.

“Get off me!” He was rabid, but the cowboy managed to tie his wrists behind him tightly and he realized with alarm that he was helpless. Dead. “What did you do to me?!”

\---

That was when Mercy stepped in. Jack had just reeled back to hit him again and she put a firm hand on his arm to stay him. "It's alright, Gabriel. I'm going to help you. Just come along quietly and I won't let anyone hurt you." Even as she said it, she heard 76's disapproving grunt. 

\---

His eyes frantically went from face to face. He had only seen the three of them, but he didn’t doubt there was more. He couldn’t see Ana from where she was stationed on the opposite catwalk from the one he’d entered on. “Get away!” 

Though the men waiting outside had heard the gunshots going off from within, they were the sounds of Reaper’s shotguns, so it wasn’t until they heard the man yelling through their earpieces that they realized something went awry. They exchanged looks and then both bursted in, semi-automatic rifles raised and ready to shoot whoever was inside. 

\---

"We're going to take you someplace where you'll be safe. If you come quietly, we'll blindfold you. If you won't, we'll have to sedate you and wake you when you arrive." Not that he wasn't intimately familiar with their headquarters. But there were changes over the years and it was best he saw as little as possible. Heads turned when the doors opened and Jack quickly rushed away from the group to dispatch the lackeys. 

\---

What she was saying made no sense, but he wasn’t going _anywhere_ with them. “You’ll have to kill me,” he snarled, still struggling, but McCree had a firm hand on his wrists and it wasn’t helping him in the slightest. If anything, it was tiring him out. He went so far as to try to elbow him, but all that earned him was another gun to the head as the cowboy drew his revolver and struck him with it. He then aimed it in the direction 76 has run off to, ready to fire if anyone approached.

As soon as Soldier 76 came into view, the men were firing. Rushing in and trying to find cover so they could avoid retaliation.

\---

It seemed this wasn't going to be easy. She expected as much. She stepped aside and signaled Ana then - she could dart him again, but this one would make him sleep. 

76 returned their fire, but they didn't have his full attention. He was looking above. If Reaper hadn't come alone, he might have another operative with him. More than likely, it would be Widowmaker. But he was confident that even if she'd snuck up there at some point, Ana would have caught onto her. 

\---

Ana had been keeping an eye out for the sniper, but was ready and as soon as she was signaled, another dart landed into Reaper. He was already on the verge of unconsciousness and he immediately went limp. McCree had no interest in holding him up, so he let him crash to the ground as he hurried off to provide 76 support. 

“No sign of other enemies,” Ana spoke into her earpiece, fixing her scope instead on the men below. She didn’t have a good shot of either of the attackers, but she had line of sight on her team and she readied herself to assist them should they take a bullet.

\---

At that point, Jack focused on taking out the attackers. Ana didn't see Widowmaker and she would have made a move by now if she was there to help Reaper. 

Once the men from Talon were eliminated, he turned to McCree and gave him a nod. They were done here. It was time to collect their prisoner and head back. 


	8. Chapter 8

Mercy had kept him sedated while everything was prepared. He'd been stripped bare - all of his things taken to be inspected and locked away. She studied his body closely, finding that had strange, open wounds that she couldn't seem to mend for him. It fascinated and frustrated her. It would require more study. 

Her nurses cleaned and dressed him, putting him in the comfortable cotton shirt and pants that her patients typically wore while recovering in her care. She doubted he would appreciate the gesture, but she thought he should be comfortable. 

She sat in a chair outside the bars to his cell, sipping coffee while she watched him. His last dose was wearing off and he'd be waking soon. He'd be groggy, but she didn't think that would soften his rage much. She was glad to have the barrier between them. 

\---

When his eyes began to open, it took awhile for him to really register anything. Everything was wrong and as greater awareness filtered in, his stomach began to sink. He pushed himself up suddenly, but that was a bad idea, because he immediately went dizzy and he had to clutch the thin mattress he was laying on to stop himself from collapsing.

He took a few haggard breaths and then he looked around him. His eyes fell first on the woman on the other side of the bars, then on his cage. He growled and as he rose to his feet, he realized he was wearing… normal clothing. He wasn’t covered. He stumbled over to the bars, grabbing them and making himself as imposing as possible.

“Let me out.”

\---

She looked up at him from her seat. She'd peeked beneath his eyelids while he was out, but his eye sclera was even more curious than she'd thought. "How are you feeling? Dizzy? Dry mouth?" Common side effects of the sedatives. 

\---

He tried to shake the bars, but they were solid beneath his hands. “Let. Me. Out,” he repeated, even though he knew there was no way in hell they would ever let him out. He would die here, he had no doubt about it. 

\---

"That isn't happening, Gabriel." He knew better. But he'd no doubt keep asking. Demanding, rather than asking. "Do you need some water?"

\---

He growled. “That isn’t my name.” It felt like scratching in his skull to hear her say that name. “I swear, when I get my hands on you, you stupid bitch...” She was currently at the top of his list. As were McCree and Morrison. Well, Morrison was always at the top of his list, but right now he wanted to snap her neck more than anything.

\---

"That is your name. More than the persona you've taken on." He probably hadn't been called by his true name in a very long time. "It's who you really are."

\---

He was trembling with rage. At being locked up like this, at being exposed, at being told ‘who he was’. “You don’t have _any_ idea, _Angela_.” She’d taken up a persona herself, but unlike him, she didn’t live it. She didn’t breathe it. He tried to give the bars another shake, but when that amounted to nothing, he pushed off them roughly. He started pacing. “What did you do to me?” He still couldn’t phase… They’d done something to take it away from him.

He looked down at himself and realized that his wounds weren’t smoking. He was confused and he reached down to touch one of them, but they were as sensitive as ever and he quickly dropped the hand.

\---

She almost smiled. Did he think he would offend her by saying her name? "I negated some of the insatiability inside of your body. I sedated you, evaluated your wounds, cleaned you, dressed you, and left you to rest."

\---

When she informed him that she’d gotten rid of his abilities - or at least that was how he interpreted her words - he started to panic. Some part of him had always wished he could take it back. To return to what he used to be, but to have it forcibly torn from him, he was furious. 

“You did what?!” At that point, he was yelling.

\---

"It isn't permanent." Though maybe she could make it that way if he chose to remain without it. Maybe the knowledge that he could have the power back eventually would calm him a little. 

\---

He shook his head, but it was a relief to hear that it wasn’t permanent. Or at least, she thought it wasn’t permanent. How could she know if it was permanent or not? “How?” Everything that had been done to him had been experimental research by Moira and even she had no way to reverse it. Or at least, that was what she’d told him. How was it that Mercy had figured out some way to block his power?

\---

"It's something that I've been working on a while. A way for me to talk to you safely." If he still had all of his abilities, there was no way this conversation could happen. He'd have killed her in an instant. 

\---

That was what she wanted? To talk to him? It was a strange enough explanation that he was disarmed. Slightly. “About what?” It was great lengths to go to simply talk to him - he knew there was more to it than that. Especially considering he was such a threat to them. This would hardly be a genial conversation and then he’d be on his way. They wanted something from him and then they’d want him gone.

\---

"About what I can do to help you." She sipped her coffee again. It had been a long day and she needed the pick-me-up. "I'm sure you don't believe that my goal is to help you, but maybe in time you will."

\---

He narrowed his eyes at her and then slowly, a dark smirk pulled at his lips. “If you want to help me, get me out of here and come to Talon with me.” He knew she would never do such a thing, but that was the only thing she could do to be of any use to him. 

\---

"We both know I don't approve of either organization." But _especially_ not Talon. "When have you felt like anyone at Talon cares about you? Not about what you can do for them, but about _you_?"

\---

His smirk lingered for a few seconds, then it fell. “Then stop wasting my time,” he spat at her. As she went on, he shook his head, in disbelief. What the fuck was she talking about? He wasn’t even willing to dignify such a stupid question with an answer, so he stayed silent.

\---

"All you have right now is time, Gabriel." In that room, there was little to do besides talk to her. "You're not stupid. You know that Talon is using you. Why would you want to return to a group that doesn't care about you?"

\---

“That’s _not_ my name,” he repeated, slower. More dangerously. “They use me, I use them. It’s mutual. Is that seriously your plan? To talk me out of working for Talon?” Or was it to talk him out of his plans to systematically destroy Overwatch? “We both know they’re not letting me leave here alive, so either kill me or let me go.”

\---

"My plan is to help you." Her tone was patient and she crossed one leg over the other. "I'm not going to let anyone hurt you, much less kill you."

\---

He growled to himself. “Your end game?” What was she hoping to accomplish by helping him? Whatever that meant. He stopped his pacing and folded his arms over himself. He felt so exposed and he couldn’t stand it.

\---

"That you won't be in so much pain." She was sure he wouldn't believe that either. Not yet, anyway. But if anyone could help, she thought she could do it. 

\---

With a scoff he turned away from her. “Leave me.” He had no interest in listening to her talk any longer. Nor did he have interest in talking to her. He just wanted to be left alone. Maybe then he could try to cobble together some sort of plan.

\---

"Before I go, would you like a little water? You had a lot of sedation." Did he even drink water? She wasn't sure. But if he did, it would probably make him feel a little better. 

\---

Did he need it? Yes, but he was stubborn. He said nothing. He didn’t want anything from her. He would need it eventually, but he would hold off for as long as he could. 

\---

"...What are your dietary needs? Do you want me to have a meal brought to you tonight?" He wasn't her typical patient, but it seemed best to ask these things.

\---

At that, he couldn’t resist. “Bring me a dead body.” That was the only way for him to get the energy he needed - though he’d fed recently enough that it would be a while before he needed another one. Really he was just saying it to get a reaction out of her. He doubted she’d believe him, even if he tried to explain it to her. Or maybe not. He was sure Overwatch knew about the husks he left behind whenever he killed.

\---

"I'm afraid I don't have any of those in my kitchen. Is there anything else I can bring you?" She didn't know whether he was being serious or not. But she wasn’t bringing him a corpse. ...Not unless his conditions grew dire without it. 

\---

There was a pause and then he answered with some honesty. An almost vulnerable honesty. “My mask.” He wanted that more than anything. At least, of anything that he might actually be given.

\---

That request surprised her, but maybe it shouldn’t. Her eyes were softer and she rose from her seat. “...I’m not sure they will let me return that to you just yet. It’s being inspected to make sure there are no communication devices or the like inside of it. Would you like a different mask until I can return yours to you?”

\---

He kept his back to her. He didn’t like it, but something was better than nothing. “Yes.” He didn’t want anyone else to see him and he imagined he would get a few visitors while he was here. 

\---

“Very well. I’ll bring you what I can find.” In the meantime, he’d have a few hours to himself. She didn’t expect him to be ready to talk to her then, but she would still come check on him. He would need some time and she would give it to him. She started out, having other work to attend to before she could return.

\---

When she was gone, his posture eased and he started to search the cell. He was sure there were cameras on him, but there was little he could do about that. If there was some weakness he could exploit, he would find it. Even if he had to tear the cell apart to do so. 

Grimly, he recognized the odds of him finding anything were slim. This was Overwatch, he knew what they were capable of and they were not going to do anything half-ass if it meant his escape. Sure enough there was nothing to find and eventually he was forced to to give up. He told himself it was only for now as he sat down on the shit excuse of a bed. 

Talon knew what had happened, he was sure, but what he was less sure of was what they would do about it. What they _could_ do about it.


	9. Chapter 9

It was later than she’d intended when Mercy returned. She was glad she’d had that coffee in the afternoon, but she still looked forward to crashing the moment she could get to her bed. She carried with her a chilled bottle of water and a mask. Finding the mask hadn’t been easy and she doubted it was exactly what he wanted, but it would serve for a little while. If he’d gone to sleep already, she’d simply leave both within his reach for when he woke.

\---

He was laying down when she arrived, but he’d anticipated her coming back so as soon as she stepped in, he pushed himself up. His eyes went to her hands and when he saw that he had in fact brought something for him, he quickly rose to his feet, making his way to the bars of the cell. He held out a hand through them, his eyes on the mask more than the water.

\---

She offered him the water first. The mask covered his mouth and he wouldn’t be able to drink once he wore it. But she offered the mask for him to take with his other hand. “It doesn’t cover as much as yours, I’m afraid. But it might make you more comfortable until I can get yours back.” This mask left his eyes exposed, but it covered most everything else. It also had a skeletal design painted on it and maybe that would be familiar enough to make him feel a little more secure in it.

\---

As soon as she was close enough, he lunged. His hand closed around her wrist and he yanked her roughly into the bars. His other hand shot out and closed around her throat, choking her. “The key,” he demanded, his eyes fixed on hers.

\---

She didn’t appear alarmed, even as he started cutting off her air. “It’s not on me.” She managed with as much voice as she could get out, her fingers gripping his but not actively trying to pry them off. 

\---

He grit his teeth, but did not let up. If anything, he choked her harder, lifting her off her feet and digging his fingers harshly into her neck. “You’re lying.” His other hand started to grope at her clothing, looking for pockets or anything that might help him free himself.

\---

The door opened, swinging so hard it crashed into the wall behind it. 76 sprinted to the cell and punched Reaper fiercely between the bars, hardly able to savor the crunch of bone beneath his first before he was tugging Mercy away from him. He only regretted that he hadn’t had a gun on him. He knew better. That’s why he’d been watching so closely from the control room. “I _told_ you!” He snapped at the doctor as he pulled her back. “I told you this is as unsafe as it is stupid.” He was a little relieved she couldn’t defend her decision quite yet, still trying to get her breath back.

\---

His eyes went to the door when Soldier 76 came bursting in, but he was unwilling to relinquish his hold on her. As such, he took the hit hard and he yelled, as he’d managed to strike him right in one of his tears. He dropped her, backing away from them both, his hand raising to hold the spot. 

“Why don’t you come in here and fight me like a man, Morrison?” he snarled at him, his eyes livid.

\---

“Because _you’re_ not a man.” Jack turned his anger on the man behind the bars and snatched the plastic water bottle that had rolled out of Mercy’s hand when she’d been attacked. He opened it and dumped the water out, letting it spill into his cell. “You’re a rabid dog that needs to be put down.”

“Enough, Jack.” Mercy scolded, her voice strained. She smoothed her lab coat, finding it thoroughly ruffled from his vain search for a key.

\---

“Neither are you, coward.” He lunged again, this time trying to attack 76, reaching for him through the bars even though he knew it would accomplish nothing. He was beyond rational thought, so intent on simply getting his hands on the man that had destroyed his life.

\---

“Open the cell, Angela.” He wasn’t armed, but neither was Reaper. They could settle this. He could do it with his bare hands, as angry as he was. 

“Enough!” She was too tired for this and she pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’m fine, you can go.”

Jack turned his scowl on her again. Was she seriously going to continue this futile little project of hers?

\---

“Open it,” he agreed. This time he had no interest in escaping. Not until he put _him_ down. “Open it and I’ll do everyone a favor.” He took another swipe at him, before simply gripping the bars of the cells, obviously chomping at the bit for the opportunity to close the distance between them.

\---

76 stared expectantly at Mercy and when she wouldn’t budge, he shook his head. “This is pointless. You can’t ‘help’ him. He’s too far gone to _save_ or whatever it is you’re hoping to get out of this.”

“And who’s fault is that?” She regretted the words as soon as they were out of her mouth. She meant them. ...But perhaps not so harshly as her tone had made it.

He recoiled, almost as if she’d struck him. After a tense, silent moment, he stormed out of the room as quickly as he’d come in. 

Mercy sighed. She’d have to talk to him, but it would have to wait. She looked to her unwilling patient with a frown. “Are you alright?”

\---

His brows furrowed as he looked between them, but understanding quickly dawned. He watched the man take his leave and before he could say anything, her question threw him off. She was asking how he was? He looked at her emotionlessly. “You know.” It wasn’t a question. 

\---

His response threw her off as well. She met his gaze and nodded. “Yes.” She didn’t know the whole story. No one did but the two men involved. But she knew more than most. 

\---

Disgust slowly filtered in. “Yet you stand at his side.” Of course she did. Everyone would stay at his side, no matter what he had done. Even if he was no longer the leader of Overwatch, he was still welcomed within her ranks. He wondered just how many people knew what he had planned to do to him.

\---

“I am not on his side. You wouldn’t be alive right now if I was. My loyalty lies with what is right. That’s why I want to help you.” Both of them were wrong. But neither of them deserved the suffering they’d endured. “You were wronged.”

\---

“I’m the one in a cage,” he growled in a low voice. “He’s the one walking free.” She’d chosen her side, there was no debating it. He shook his head. “I will burn Overwatch to the ground piece by piece.”

\---

“That is the only reason you must be caged. I can’t help you if you kill me. Just now you nearly killed me even inside your cell.” She was at least convinced that he wasn’t seriously injured now, even if he hadn’t answered her question. She looked down at where the water had spilled and the crumpled mask she’d brought him. “...The mask is a little damp. You might want to hang it up in there for a little bit to let it dry.”

\---

Had she always been this stubborn? In the past his interactions with her had always been positive. If she was ever cross with him, it was because he wasn’t as careful as he ought to be and was often suffering injuries. Back then… he’d liked her. Things had changed, though, and she was as much a part of the problem as the rest of them. 

“You can’t keep me in here forever…”

\---

“I’ll bring you more water when I check on you in the morning. ...Maybe breakfast too?” She didn’t expect an answer. She still didn’t know if he could actually eat, but she didn’t want him to go hungry if he could. “The lights will dim shortly.” The room wouldn’t get too dark, but she hoped the dim light would help him get some rest. 

\---

With a ‘hmph’, he turned his back on her again. If she was going to ignore him, then he would ignore her. He knew he’d lost his chance to get anything off of her - she would have to be stupid to put herself within arms reach of him again. He just needed more time to think and come up with his next plan.

\---

"Goodnight, Gabriel." She doubted it would be a good night for him by any stretch. He was angry, he was afraid, he was hurting. But she would make sure he was undisturbed until she came back for her rounds in the morning.


	10. Chapter 10

She was feeling much better after a good night of rest. When she returned to the cell the next morning, she was pleased to find him in the bed. He probably didn’t sleep, but maybe he rested a little. 

"Guten morgen." She greeted him as she set the things she'd brought for him just outside the bars. She didn't dare linger there for long, not after what he did last night. She brought him a small bowl of oatmeal with fresh berries in it, a fresh bottle of water, and a paper cup full of warm coffee. "You never told me what you like to eat...or if you eat at all. But I hope this is to your liking." She moved to her chair, wanting to observe him for a little while, even if he wouldn't engage. 

\---

He heard the door open, but he didn’t have to look to know who it was. Sure enough, he listened as she greeted him and set something down. Breakfast, most likely. Soon, that was confirmed as well. “I did,” he argued, staying as he was, his eyes fixed up. He wasn’t interested in whatever it was she’d brought him. He’d told her exactly what he ate, she just didn’t want to believe him. Or accept it.

\---

"You were serious then." She hadn't been sure. That was disturbing, but it didn’t show in her tone. It was just one more thing she would have to help him with. "Should I stop bringing you water? Can you not eat or drink anything?"

\---

“...No.” He looked over finally, his eyes falling to the tray and the water on it. For whatever reason, this body of his still needed water. He was still feeling stubborn, but slowly, he got up and made his way over, reaching between the bars and picking up the bottle. He considered the coffee, but ultimately ignored it as he made his way back to his bunk. There was a chair in his cell that would put him a lot closer to her, but he had no desire to be closer to her and he didn’t like all of the straps that were bolted to it. 

\---

Interesting. She saw that he eyed the coffee, but ultimately only took the water. "Do you like coffee? If you'd rather I only bring you water, that's fine." She didn't mind him retreating back to bed. At least he wasn't throwing things at her. 

\---

He used to like coffee, but he’d learned the hard way that drinking anything added to water didn’t sit well with him. It made him feel sick. The only exception he ever made was for alcohol and that was because it made him feel sick anyway - at least it was an enjoyable sick. It had been a long time since he’d enjoyed the taste of something.

At least, it had been a long time before he’d started licking Widowmaker. 

“Just water,” he agreed, setting the bottle down. He’d drink it after she left.

\---

"Very good. Just water." She'd put a notepad on the table beside her chair and she pulled a pen from her pocket, jotting down a note. "How often do you need bodies to consume?"

\---

“Depends on how many bodies I ‘consumed’ last.” This was said with some sarcastic bite. The more he fed, the longer he could go. There was a drop off, eventually. He found that after ten, it didn’t make much a difference. It would be annoying to only consume one body at a time though. Even if it could sustain him for a while, if need be.

\---

"And how long do you think you'll have before you need one?" She asked, still taking notes. She hoped he didn’t need them with any great frequency. 

\---

That made him pause. “I don’t know.” He’d had three bodies not all that long ago, but the greatest drain on him was using his abilities. He couldn’t use his abilities here, so he had no idea how long they would last him. He’d never gone so long without draining himself. 

\---

"We'll monitor your condition and go from there." She looked up from her pad. "I'd like to try to mend your wounds. I'll need to examine you at length, but I want to give you some time to settle in. We'll do that another day. In the meantime, can I bring you anything to make you more comfortable?"

\---

He shook his head. “That’s impossible.” He would have argued that what she’d already done was impossible, but he knew there would be no healing his wounds. “O’Deorain already tried.” After the explosion had left him torn up, she’d done a lot to try to fix him and this was the result. A more extreme version of what she’d already turned him into. 

He leered at her. “If you want to make me comfortable, why don’t you take off that lab coat of yours and come in here?” He was trying to get a rise out of her. 

\---

"She is brilliant, but she probably didn't try all that hard to mend you. Not if it would limit the work she's already put into your abilities." She completely ignored his jeer at her. "Did she do anything for your pain? Are you comfortable when your wounds aren't touched or do they hurt all of the time?" She wanted to do a proper exam at some point, but he'd been reactive even under sedation to his wounds being touched. 

\---

“There’s nothing to be done.” He sounded irate. Even simply talking about it was infuriating to him. It wasn’t a direct answer, but it was enough of an answer. He was always hurting. He’d simply grown so used to it that he was able to ignore it. It was almost as if it wasn’t there, unless he managed to do something to magnify the pain. It was, though. It was always there.

\---

Her brows raised. He'd tried to get a rise out of her, but it seemed she'd pressed his buttons instead. "Nonsense. Even if I can't close the wounds, I could find ways to desensitize them. I could help with your pain. You probably thought I couldn't negate your abilities either, but you underestimate me and the lengths I'm willing to go to help you."

\---

“I don’t need your help.” His teeth were grit. “I’m not yours to experiment on.” She put on this show of being kind, but he didn’t doubt that she was studying him to try to figure out exactly what Moira was capable of. To either utilize her technology herself or to find out how to stop him, should Moira make more of him.

\---

"I'll give you time to settle in." She set her notepad aside and stood to collect the oatmeal and coffee he couldn’t enjoy as she'd hoped. "I will check on you tonight. Just call out if you need anything and one of my nurses will assist you."

\---

“Stupid bitch,” he grumbled to himself, waiting for her to go. Maybe one of the nurses would be key. He could try to manipulate one of them, instead. He could try to convince them that they needed to let him out. Or if not that, to at least come close enough that he could repeat what he’d already done to Mercy, but with more success.

\---

She started out, her mind already wandering to her other tasks for the day. She wasn't concerned about her nurses. They had firm instructions not to go anywhere near the cell. Anything he needed that would require getting close, they were to get her. They were all appropriately wary of their patient and she trusted them not to fall for any of his antics. 


	11. Chapter 11

By the time the meeting was called, rumors had spread and Widowmaker already knew exactly what it was about. Reaper had been taken prisoner by Overwatch. He'd been acting alone and the operatives with him had been killed.

He'd been tricked. That was unfortunate but that he'd allowed himself to be taken alive was...bizarre. They must have sprung quite a trap on him. The Reaper she knew would die fighting before being captured. 

She listened intently through the meeting, waiting with less than her usual patience to hear the plan of action. But there wasn’t one. The plan was _in_ action. To leave him there and see what intel he could gather from inside. In the meantime, they would send covert teams to search for a weak point to infiltrate when the time was right to retrieve him.

The plan was reasonable, but she didn’t like it. They were probably torturing him. Trying to bleed information from him. She knew just how easy it was to hurt him and it made her uneasy to think of Overwatch taking advantage of his suffering.

She would be punished for taking him early against orders, but she didn't care. Reaper was her partner and Overwatch couldn't have him. She only needed a few days to find her own weak point to infiltrate, then she would make her move. She would bring him home. 


	12. Chapter 12

Until now, Mercy’s interactions with him had been fairly simple. Bringing him water, asking him about his needs, trying to make him comfortable. But today was different. Her evening visit had her visiting him with a pair of nurses at her heels. 

"Good evening, Gabriel." She greeted him, carrying only a cup of water rather than a full bottle. "I need to examine you. I'm going to need you in the restraint chair, I'm afraid."

\---

He’d given up telling her to stop calling him that, but he still reacted negatively everytime. “That’s not going to happen.” He looked between the three of them, not especially concerned about any of them. He could overpower all of them, if it came to it. She was smoking something if she thought he would willingly allow himself to be restrained or examined.

\---

"This will be faster if you cooperate. I put a mild sedative in your water. You could drink this if you like." She put the cup in his reach, then moved back. "If you'd rather not, my assistant will dart you and sedate you that way."

\---

He glared at her. Eventually he went to where the water had been left and he picked up the cup. He looked down into it and then, suddenly, he threw the cup at the three of them. “Fuck you.” 

\---

That was the response she'd been expecting. She nodded and one of the nurses produced a small tranquilizer gun. She wasn't as good as Ana, but she was practiced and swift, the dart firing and hitting his shoulder the instant after she drew it. 

\---

He knew there was no avoiding it, that he would be struck. He was counting on it. As soon as it hit him, he cried out and yanked the dart out of him. Already it was starting to drop him and with his last thought, he threw it away. His hope was that it would land beneath his bunk and they would be so intent on restraining him that they’d forget to fetch it before they left.

\---

"Quickly now." It was a mild sedative and he wouldn't be out long. Especially if he pulled it out fast enough. The cell door opened seemingly on its own and she stepped inside, working with one of her nurses to get him up into the chair and safely restrained. The other nurse went to collect the dart, checking a small window in the side of it. "Two cc's administered."

"Good." Enough to get some of this finished before he woke. When he was safely strapped into the chair, she got right to work, bringing a pen light out of her pocket and lifting an eyelid to inspect the unnatural coloring below. 

\---

At first, he was not responsive, but as she examined his eyes, they started to shift. At first without purpose and then he grunted, trying to move away from the light shining into them. As he became more aware, he started to struggle, wrists and ankles jerking within the leather straps.

\---

"Sorry, I know that's bright." She turned off her light, letting him recover now that he was waking. She reached beneath his mask but didn't remove it, her fingers gingerly feeling his neck for his lymph nodes. "No swelling, body temperature remains low." She murmured aloud, trusting one of her assistants to document everything. 

\---

“Get away from me,” he growled, trying to lean away from her touches. He didn’t like being examined, especially after everything Moira had done to him. He rarely even let her touch him these days. His muscles were straining and the leather creaked beneath them, but held strong despite his abnormal strength.

\---

"It's alright…" She said reassuringly as she moved the collar to see one of his tears. They were so strange. "Consider tissue biopsy. He'll need to be under, it would be too painful to take without proper anesthesia." Her tone was clinical again, dictating her plans for the nurse to document. 

\---

He was so angry, listening to everything she was planning on doing to him. Beneath the anger, there was distress. His eyes reflected both and he wasn’t even aware of it. He had to get the fuck out of here. Either that, or find a way to end it. He didn’t want to do that, it would be a last act of desperation if it came to it, but the longer he was here, the longer they won. He couldn’t let them win.

\---

She was still closely inspecting the wound when the alarms sounded. She straightened up suddenly, listening for an overhead page to announce what was going on. The lack of an announcement didn't bode well. "Go on, get someplace safe." She told the nurses, looking back to Reaper. The cell would close behind her and he would be safe there. 

\---

Something in him changed. He was still struggling, but now his eyes were bright beneath the mask. He knew what it was. The only thing it could be. Talon had come to get him. Beneath the mask, he smirked as they left, having no doubt that the next person through those doors would be here to free him.

\---

Mercy ran out without another word. The cell slammed closed behind her and soon after, the restraints on his chair released. Alarms continued to blare, occasionally distant shouts and running footsteps could be heard. 

\---

As soon as he was freed, he was on his feet, pacing back and forth. Waiting. It wouldn’t be long… Whatever they had planned, it would work and they would be springing him out any moment. As long as he had his shotguns, he could take care of himself. If they hadn’t brought them, then any weapon would do. 

\---

It was over an hour before the alarms quieted. It was longer still before a slightly disheveled Mercy made her way into the room. She carried a bottle of water with her, not a cup this time. 

\---

The longer it went on, the faster his pacing was. It was taking too long… When the doors opened, he startled, and when he saw who it was, his heart pounded unpleasantly. “...What happened?” He went to the bars of the cage, fingers wrapping around them.

\---

"Nothing of consequence." She meant to leave the water within his reach, but she wouldn't until he was well away from the bars. "I apologize for the disruption. I intended to have your room cleaned and your sheets changed while you were in the chair, but it will have to wait until your next examination."

\---

“That was not nothing,” he argued, tightening his grip. “What happened?” Obviously it had failed. Whoever had come for him had failed. He wondered if Widowmaker was nearby. If she was fleeing. Who else? Sombra? Doomfist? Or had it mostly been the unnamed soldiers that padded their ranks? 

\---

"It wasn't a rescue mission from Talon, if that's what you're asking." They wouldn't be so foolish as to send one agent in by themselves. There were still people searching for whatever backup the sniper must have brought along, but no one had been found in the initial sweeps. 

\---

He snorted softly. Clearly that was exactly what it had been… His amusement at her lackluster attempt at convincing him otherwise faded, though, as it struck him they really had failed. What did that mean for him? Would they try again? Or would they give up on him and decide that he wasn’t worth the resources?

Surely not. He was one of the most valuable resources they had.

\---

It was clear he didn't believe her. That was hardly surprising. "Do you think Talon would send in one person with no backup?" She doubted it. 

\---

“I think you’re too stupid to see the big picture.” He doubted it had only been one person, but he wondered who it was. It must have been Widow. Who else? If not her… then Sombra. Sombra was the one that stood the best chance of sneaking in and sneaking back out. Whoever it was, he didn’t think they’d actually been acting alone.

\---

"Well, the threat was neutralized, so we weren't able to ask questions. But it appears they were alone. Regardless, nothing has changed. We'll resume your examination in a couple days." She didn't want to sedate him two days in a row. 

\---

“Neutralized?” He stared at her, knowing what that word usually implied. “Who was neutralized?” They’d killed someone from Talon? It didn’t really matter to him, but the thought that they might have killed Widowmaker… that was jarring.

\---

She realized what he thought she meant and her eyes softened. "No one was killed." Not from Talon. Only a handful of security detail from her own side. "I apologize, I didn't mean to worry you." He probably wasn't that worried. But that he cared at all was reassuring that he wasn’t so far gone as everyone thought. 

\---

He continued to stare and then with a huff, he stepped away from the bars. “Stop pretending to be nice.” He was sick of her acting like some sort of saint. She was as terrible as the rest of them and he’d prefer she be upfront about it. That she own up to the fact that she was experimenting on him for her own purposes and that when she was done, he was disposable.

\---

When he was far enough back, she set the water near the bars. "Get some rest." She considered him a moment. "Your body temperature runs abnormally low. Are you warm enough in here?"

\---

He looked over at his bunk and paused. In all of the commotion, he’d completely forgotten about the dart. Was it still there? He couldn’t see it on the floor from where he was, but he couldn’t check any more thoroughly until she was gone. “I’m fine. Fuck off.” He wanted to be left alone.

\---

"Goodnight, Gabriel." She'd do a better examination of him soon and then maybe she could actually do something for him. Maybe then he'd see that she really did mean well.


	13. Chapter 13

The passing days were misery. His attempts at securing his own escape were being squashed repeatedly. Everytime he was struck with a sleep dart, he yanked it from his skin before he struck the ground, but everytime he woke, they were missing. He was sick of being poked and prodded and worse, he was tired of being confined. His mind was running constantly, but there was nowhere for it to go. He circled the same thoughts over and over, trying to plan his escape, wondering when Talon would try again. 

The only solace he had was that they had not tried to torture him yet. He had a lot of information that they would die to get their hands on, but they hadn’t tried to extract it from him. Yet. 

So when he started to wake and felt the flare of agony all over his body, his first thought was that this was it. The first sounds he made were whimpers as he started to shift. Soon that turned to writhing and his hands began to dig at the source of the pain. He felt the stitches beneath his shirt and the bandages that covered them and he moaned in protest. He started to scratch his fingers against it, as if trying to tear them out, even through the layers protecting them.

\---

“Gabriel?” Mercy had been resting comfortably in her chair, waiting for her patient to wake. It was time for him to start coming around, but she hadn’t expected him to wake sounding so miserable. “Are you alright?” It was probably a ruse. A game he was playing to make her come closer. Still, she went to the bars and frowned as she studied him where he writhed on the bed.

\---

There was a voice, but that was as much as he could register. He was too caught up in what he was feeling and his sounds continued to build as he roused more and more. Eventually he started to scream, his hand yanking his shirt up and clawing at the bandages.

\---

She waved frantically up to one of the cameras in the room. There was a delay and she didn’t doubt that the person in the control room was thinking the same thing she was. This was a trap. But she kept waving her demand until finally the cell door opened. She raced inside, thinking little of her own safety as she rushed to him and the door closed behind her. “Gabriel!” She moved to the bed and when she saw he was trying to rip at his bandages, she knew she couldn’t leave him in this much pain. The healing capacity she had in the device she pulled from her pocket was nothing like what she used on the battlefield, but she didn’t need to raise anyone from recent death or reattach limbs. She needed to ease pain. She pressed it to his side, letting the healing energy flow into him directly through his skin.

\---

If it was that simple, he wouldn’t be in this state in the first place. Still, it did take the edge off and his screams softened back to weak whimpers. His hand continued to scratch at the bandage, however, his eyes staring down on it. He managed to finally get his nail under the tape and he tore it up.

\---

It was a step in the right direction. She could hear other footsteps entering the room. Most likely security in case she would find herself in danger. But her full attention was on the man and she sat on the mattress beside him to get closer. She carefully tried to ease the bandage back over the wound with her free hand, the other still trying to give him the pain relief he needed. “Try to leave it alone, please. I’m trying a couple different methods to heal these up for you. If you scratch they could get infected…” Maybe? She wasn’t sure he could get an infection in the state he was in.

\---

He knocked her hand out of place, the bandage with it. “Take it out,” he croaked, his fingers now digging at the stitches directly. This was not the first time this had been done to him, but it had been a short experiment then too. It wasn’t just the stitches, of course, it was whatever she had done to him. It wasn’t just that specific spot, either. He could feel the same sensations elsewhere. On his leg. On the arm opposite from the one trying to rip his stitches free. More on his torso. She’d done a number on him.

\---

"Okay…" She took hold of his hand to pull it away. She wouldn’t be strong enough normally, but she didn’t think he had much strength now. "I'll take them all out. I'll put you back to sleep and you'll feel better when you wake…"

\---

He tried to jerk his hand away from hers, but when she held tight, he ended up gripping it instead. Holding it tightly and expressing his pain that way. He was hyperventilating beneath the mask, but overall, he seemed to be slowly calming down. 

\---

“I’m sorry.” She wished she could do more. The device she had on her could only do so much. She returned the tight hold on his hand and called behind her for someone to get a sedative. “I’ll make this better.” She’d undo what she’d done.

\---

He was struck with panic. “No, no, no.” He repeated, crushing her hand to him. He didn’t want a sedative. He’d had so many sedatives forced on him already and after the last one, he’d woken up like this.

\---

“I don’t think you want to be awake when I pull your stitches.” She said gently, giving his hand a reassuring stroke with her thumb. “Wouldn’t you rather be asleep? It will hurt so much less.”

\---

“No,” he repeated, but this time was firmer. He’d rather feel the pain and stay awake than go to sleep and wake up with… who knows what else done to him. It wasn’t that the pain was all that dissimilar to what Widow had done to him, but that had been combined with pleasure and unlike then, this was unrelenting. She had only ever hurt him in one tear at a time - this pain was radiating from several spots all at once. 

The only distraction he had was her thumb rubbing against his hand.

\---

A nurse had arrived with a syringe in hand and once she was let inside the cell, she was at Mercy’s side. “No sedative.” She said quickly. “Bring me supplies to take out the stitches. Bring me something strong for pain too.”

\---

It was hard for him to breathe, but that was the last of his concerns. He shut his eyes and he couldn’t help but writhe again, holding back a cry. After, he was still once more, but shaking.

\---

That nurse rushed out and returned with a couple others, as well as the supplies she’d requested. She looked down to the hand Reaper was holding - it might distress him even more to take it from him. “Take over.” She said, handing her healing device to a nurse and instead reaching for a paper cup with two pills in it. She worked his mask up a little, enough to get to his lips, then put the cup to his lips. “Swallow these. They won’t make you sleep, they’ll take the edge off your pain while I work.”

\---

As soon as the mask was off his mouth, he was taking gulping breaths of air without the fabric to obstruct him. As soon as she input the cup to his lips, however, he quickly closed them and shook his head roughly. He didn’t trust her and he would not willingly swallow anything she wanted to give him.

\---

She wouldn’t force him. She set the cup aside and took up a pair of wickedly sharp scissors. “Then you’ll have to hold as still as you can for me.” With great precision, she eased the blades of the scissors over the thread she’d used to bind the wound he’d uncovered. As she began to cut the switches away, she rubbed his hand harder with her thumb, giving him something else to focus on.

\---

He could do it. He wanted this, at least, and so with great effort, he managed to keep himself from shifting around too much. He couldn’t stop his shaking and he was still making awful sounds, but he grit his teeth and endured what she was doing to him.

\---

The nurses helped her to remove the other bandages. She was deft and efficient, undoing all of her work all while keeping her hold on his hand. When it was done, she looked down to him. “Is that better?” There was at least nothing touching his wounds anymore. “Do you want me to put any numbing cream on them? Those pills would be more effective…”

\---

There was a sheen of sweat across his entire body. It was better. They still hurt badly, but it had been relieved without the pressure of the stitches in place. “No,” he answered sharply, not wanting anything else done to him. Time would ease the pain better than anything.

\---

“As you wish. ...I would not have tried that if I knew it would cause you so much pain. I apologize.” She started to rise from the bed, easing her hold on his hand and seeing if he was ready to release her or if he still needed to hold on.

\---

He said nothing and when she pulled away from him, he let go of her. He turned his head away from her. He wanted nothing to do with her. He’d only relied on her in the heat of the moment and with it over, he wanted to be left alone. He was always alone and that was how he had learned to deal with these things.

\---

Mercy helped her nurses to clean up the mess, then ushered them out. She would leave him extra water, after all that he might be dehydrated. Otherwise, she had every intention of leaving him be for at least a day. 


	14. Chapter 14

The last couple of days had been hell. Peaceful enough, as he was left to himself, but hell. He had recovered from what had been done to him, but only in time for them to come back with the goddamn dart gun. He’d panicked and this time he didn’t care about trying to keep a dart. He tried to dodge it, to stop it from happening, but they managed to hit him all the same.

When he woke this time, it wasn’t in pain. This time, he might have been waking from sleeping. He’d lost all sense of time and waking up in his bunk in the middle of the day didn’t change that. Initially, he thought it was exactly that. That’d he’d woken from a nap and that he was alone. His eyes remained closed and he rolled to his side from where he’d been set on his back, trying to get more comfortable.

\---

He was starting to wake. There weren’t whimpers or screams, which was a great improvement from his last procedure. But that didn’t mean she had done him any good. The EEG readings had suggested reduced sensitivity on his wounds, but she wouldn’t know for sure if it had worked until he was properly awake. She crossed one leg over the other, using her thigh to balance her notepad as she jotted down her thoughts.

\---

He heard the scratching of a pen and with that, realized that he wasn’t as alone as he’d thought. His eyes opened and he was facing the bars, so he saw her sitting there. He stared at her for a long moment, before remembering what had happened earlier. A welling of rage consumed him as he pushed himself up.

“What did you do to me?” He sounded not only extremely threatening, but extremely threatened.

\---

“Some rerouting of neurons, small alterations. With any luck, the pain receptors around your wounds are no longer so sensitive.” It wasn’t healing the wounds, which she would much prefer. But it was something that might make his life more tolerable in the meantime. “How are you feeling?” Besides enraged.

\---

He was still staring, a hand lifting to touch his head. She’d altered his brain? His thoughts went to Widowmaker, to her reconditioning. That wasn’t what had been done to him, he could tell that much, but the thought of Overwatch altering his fucking brain was enough to drive him to a fit. 

He yelled obscenities, tossed around what little in the cell wasn’t bolted down, and he even punched the concrete wall. It was hard enough to crack it shallowly, but also hard enough for his hand to crunch unpleasantly. With a final roar, he sank to his knees in front of the wall, his head bowed.

\---

That was unexpected. She took down notes avidly. Nothing she’d done should have caused a breakdown in him like this, so she thought it was entirely genuine. She was quiet, letting him work it out of his system.

\---

He heard her pen scratching and he sank into himself. Slowly, he shifted so that instead of his knees, he was resting on his thigh, his legs curled up beside him. His back was to the bars and he pressed his shoulder into the wall. His head remained bowed and the hand he had not injured lifted to clutch at the back of it.

\---

She sat by quietly, eventually setting her notepad aside. He must have thought she’d done something terrible to him. But she was not Moira, she was not Talon. She had no interest in changing him in a way that benefitted her. He just needed a little more time to realize that.

\---

He couldn’t handle this feeling of helplessness. He was disgusted with himself for ever letting this happen. He should have died in that warehouse. He shouldn’t have even been in that warehouse. It was sinking in that the only way he could take his power back was by choosing when to die. 

\--- 

Eventually, she spoke up softly. “Would you like me to take a look at your hand?” She’d heard the crack. She knew he healed quickly, but she didn’t know how well his bones mended. 

\---

He stiffened when she spoke, but did not show any sign that he heard her otherwise. He didn’t shift, he didn’t speak, he simply sat there, curled up against the cold wall.

\---

She was getting the cold shoulder. “Are you afraid that I altered the way you think?” She asked, her tone still soft. “I would _never_ do that to you, Gabriel.” Or anyone. 

\---

It seemed like he wasn’t going to respond initially, but when he did, his voice was quieter than normal. “Are you really the Angel of Mercy?” In another time, he might have found it amusing. He called himself the Angel of Death and yet, she took her role as an angel much more seriously than he did. She dressed herself up like one and flitted around on her silly wings with her silly halo.

\---

That surprised her and her brows rose. “...I am no angel, but I try to do what is right. I would not have tried what I did today if I did not think it would be to your benefit.” Right now, she wasn’t sure that it was. “I’d like to know if you’re in any less pain than usual, but it’s probably hard to say right now while you’re so angry with me.”

\---

“If you want to do what is right, give me something that will end it.” She would be doing them both a favor. At least, it would be a favor for everyone else at Overwatch. She wasn’t done with her experiments on him, so she wouldn’t stop. She wouldn’t give him what he wanted.

\---

“Gabriel…” She stood and moved closer to the bars. “I only wanted to…” She was at a loss. She was supposed to be helping him. To help him see that there was still good left in the world. Instead, she’d made matters worse. “I won’t do any more procedures without your express permission. No more tranquilizing either. I won’t be able to examine you closely, but it seems I’m doing you more harm than good right now.”

\---

He shrank further down, lapsing back into silence. He didn’t believe her. His thoughts drifted to Widow as they occasionally had during his stay here, but even that wasn’t a comfort. The woman was a good fit for him in a lot of ways, but not because she could offer any emotional support. 

\---

“If you decide you feel a little better and wish to proceed, we can try something else. Until then, I won’t do anything else to you.” He didn’t trust her, but maybe he would with a little more time. “I’ll leave you be tonight. I’ll come check on you in the morning.”

\---

He was waiting for her to leave. He didn’t intend on being here in the morning, but she could believe what she wanted. 


	15. Chapter 15

Mercy was on her way back to his room earlier than expected. She was barefoot and wearing a nightgown, not taking time to dress when she’d been alerted to her patient’s behavior. She was flanked on either side by security and there were already men in the room that held Reaper’s cell when she arrived. 

This time she only had to wave once for the cell to be opened and she stepped inside, going straight to the man who had been tearing his sheets. “Gabriel…”

\---

When she arrived, he was done tearing the sheets and was now fashioning a rope, heedless of the men watching him. He had a ways to go yet and he was sure they would stop him before he could complete his task, but while they were leaving him by himself, he was going to continue working. 

He glanced up when Mercy walked in the room and in spite of himself, he gave a crazed little laugh. “What are you going to do, doc? Tranquilize me?” She’d have to if she wanted to stop him. After her promise earlier, the thought was hilarious to him.

\---

She moved to him, putting her hands over his to still him. “Please…” This was the farthest thing from what she’d been hoping to accomplish with him. She felt guilty and it showed in her eyes as she looked to him pleadingly.

\---

She was putting herself in danger by being in here with him, but he wasn’t of a mind to take advantage of it. What little he could accomplish would immediately be put to an end by the group of men waiting outside the cell. He didn’t have the energy for it anyway. 

“Then make it easy for me.” His voice was darker, the amusement absent. He let her touch him, then tentatively turned his hands to touch hers. As if he could convince her, rather than the other way around.

\---

When his hands turned up, she held them tightly. Maybe she could be a comfort to him as she had been when the pain of his wounds had been too much. “I’ll sit here with you tonight. You’ll see, this will all look better in the morning.” 

\---

His eyes flashed with accusation and he loosened his hold on her hands. If she wasn’t going to give him what he wanted, then he wanted nothing to do with her. Most of the time he wanted nothing to do with her, but the feeling was especially strong after what she’d done to him. He wanted to wring her neck, but he had more important things to be doing with his own neck.

\---

She didn’t release his hands when he loosened his hold. “Let’s sit down on the bed. We’ll have to do without sheets for tonight, but that’s alright.” She’d get him new sheets when she was a little more confident he wouldn’t try to kill himself with them.

\---

“I will kill you,” he warned her, telling her flat out what a terrible idea it was for her to stay in here with him. She was lucky that he hadn’t tried so far. 

\---

She didn’t think he was lying. He would probably try. She gave his hands a tug. “Come sit with me.” His life was in her hands and it was a risk worth taking.

\---

Her complete disregard for what he was saying to her bemused him enough that he rose from where he was sitting. The makeshift rope fell to the floor, but he told himself that even if they took it away, he could always find a different way. 

\---

She led him to his bunk, sitting down and urging him to do the same with a tug of her hands. “It’s alright. Just sit with me.” At least as long as she kept a hold of his hands, he couldn’t use them to strangle her.

\---

He did what she wanted. He was looking at her apprehensively, his eyes going from her, to their joined hands. He didn’t know what she was doing, but he was truly exhausted. He hadn’t slept in a while, he’d worn himself out, and he was sick with emotion. Most of it was anger and hatred, but a lot of it was also self-loathing. 

\---

“Do you want to lay down?” She asked as she watched him. He looked so tired. “You can lay down and I’ll stay right here.” 

\---

He blinked at her. Why would he lay down with her sitting right next to him? Why did she think he was that stupid? That he would trust her and fall asleep beside her? He couldn’t remember the last time he’d fallen asleep beside someone and he had no intention of starting now.

\---

“It’s alright.” She repeated, giving his hands a soft, reassuring squeeze. “You can rest and if you need anything at all, I’ll be right beside you.” 

\---

For a long time, they stayed as they were. He simply sat there, staring at their hands, as if he couldn’t wrap his head around what they were doing. It was a strangely intimate touch for him. Even after regularly running his hands all over Widowmaker’s body, something as simple as this was not something he’d done in a long time. 

Slowly but surely, he seemed to lose focus. It was growing harder and harder for him to stay sitting and he was starting to slump.

\---

She followed along as he started to slump and eventually she helped him to ease down onto the mattress. Even then, she set a hand on his, not wanting to break their connection. She was exhausted herself, but it was far from the first time she'd stayed up all night with a patient. It was just going to take a lot of coffee to get her through the next day. 

\---

He was too tired to fight it. It seemed he was stupid after all. He laid on his side, his legs curled in slightly. He continued to stare at their hands for a time, then his eyes fell shut. At that point, her wait was short. His breathing evened out and he fell into a much needed slumber.

\---

It took awhile for the security officers to slowly filter out of the room. Eventually only two were left, refusing to leave the doctor completely alone with the madman. They took away the ruined sheets and brought her a cup of the caffeine she deeply needed. With all of that taken care of, they waited quietly near the door, keeping an eye on the woman as she kept her vigilant watch over Reaper. 


	16. Chapter 16

It was somewhat early in the morning when Reaper started to wake. He felt the hand on his and while he was still out of it, he clutched at it. Eventually, though, awareness filtered in and he opened his eyes. He saw the two-faced doctor sitting at his side, touching him, and he pulled his hand away sharply.

\---

She was aware of him starting to rouse, but the sudden movement surprised her. Almost startled her. She knew how dangerous it was that she'd stayed this close to him. She remained as she was, still and quiet as she gave him time to wake. 

\---

The last time he’d woken, she’d done something to his brain. With quickening breaths, he pushed himself up to his arms. “What did you do to me?” He had to assume that she’d done something. He had fallen asleep and that would be permission to someone like her. 

\---

She looked a little confused. She was too tired to process the question all that well. "...I held your hand." She helped him lay down too, she supposed. But he mostly did that on his own. 

\---

It was his turn to look confused. He’d fallen asleep with her hand on his and he’d woken with her hand on his, but he did not believe for a moment that she’d held his hand all night. “Why?” Why had she held it at all? Why was she sitting in here with him? 

\---

"I didn't want you to feel like you were alone." She was probably the last person he wanted around. But she'd been there for him and it had helped at least a little. 

\---

He pushed himself up completely, standing. Putting space between them. Rather than close the distance and fulfill his promise, he was trying to get away from her. His hand rose to his head and he tried to tell if anything was different. If his thoughts were any different. He’d fallen asleep with her sitting at his side - that wasn’t like him, was it? But that had also happened before he’d fallen asleep, so if she’d done something to him last night, that wouldn’t be any indication. Maybe it was because of what she had done to him yesterday.

\---

She remained where she was, letting him get his space. She realized that as agitated as he was, she was in danger. He could kill her and likely before the two men outside could do anything about it, but she thought he needed a calm, steady presence right now, so she waited to see what he would do. 

\---

He couldn’t tell, but that was likely how it was meant to be, wasn’t it? She wouldn’t want him to be able to tell. He was starting to pace, aware that she was simply sitting there. He was working himself up something awful, but as minutes passed, suddenly everything stopped. He went still. 

He looked at her and then slowly, he sat down. Whether or not she had done something to his mind, he felt like himself. Whether or not that was true, he could make her believe that she’d been successful. If he became a little more compliant, she would show her true colors. Then he could find out the truth… and figure out from there what he wanted to do about it. 

He needed to know If there was a way to turn this around on her, or if he really needed to find a way to stop this from continuing. Before he gave Overwatch anything else to use against him… or against Talon.

\---

"...How are you feeling?" She wasn’t sure what to make of him. The change in him. She was all the more uneasy, but she didn't let it show. 

\---

“I don’t know.” That wasn’t far from the truth. He wasn’t in pain the way he normally would be, but truthfully, he’d hardly noticed. He’d been so worked up about what he thought she had done to him that he hadn’t paid attention to the lack of pain. Most of the time he was able to ignore it anyway. 

\---

"Would you be more comfortable if I showed you the security footage from last night?" So he could see that nothing had been done to him. She'd only sat at his side. 

\---

The offer surprised him. “...Yes.” He wanted to see what had happened, but really he was calling her bluff. If she was offering only because she thought he’d turn down the offer. 

\---

She looked to the men waiting outside the cell. "Would one of you fetch that for us, please?" She would be leaving herself even more vulnerable while one of her guards went to the control room. But if she wanted his trust, she would have to earn it. 

\---

His eyes went to the guards and he watched one of the men leave. Why was she suddenly putting so much trust in him not to attack her? It only seemed to prove what he already thought. She’d done something to him, so she ‘knew’ he wasn’t a danger to her. He told himself that this wasn’t true. That the only reason he hadn’t leapt at her was because he was using this situation to _his_ advantage. 

\---

She was tense the entire time the man was gone. She exhaled a breath she didn't realize she was holding when he returned and she stood to meet him at the bars, taking a small device from him. A holographic screen lit up in front of her and she scrolled back the camera footage to the moment she'd come into his cell and took his hands. She walked to Reaper then and offered him the device, letting him control it so he could play the hours of footage at whatever speed he liked. 

\---

He watched her, his expression set beneath his mask. He took the device from her and started to run the footage. He sped it up so the minutes turned into seconds, his eyes flicking from the pair of them on the bed, to the timestamp at the bottom. If this was some sort of trick, the time stamp would tell him more than the image itself. If there were any strange jumps, any obvious cuts. He saw nothing and when he rewinded to watch it again, he felt… strange. There was something almost creepy about seeing her sit there, hovering over him with little movement for so long, but he could see that what she’d said was true. She’s held his hand the entire time and he didn’t know what to think about that. 

\---

She stood by silently, letting him watch the footage as much as he liked. She was exhausted. Her head was low and she looked as if she might fall asleep standing there while she waited. 

\---

When he reached the end, he set the device aside, looking up at her. Curious what she would do, he held out a hand, wondering if she would take it. 

\---

She looked a little uncertain when he offered a hand to her. She only hesitated a beat, then took his hand. His skin was still so unnaturally cool and she wondered if raising his core temperature was a possibility. 

\---

He held her hand and after taking in the touch, he used the hold to yank her in. It was much like the first time he’d gotten a hold of her, his free hand grabbing her throat. Only this time, he didn’t squeeze. He simply held the hand there, a silent threat. 

\---

She had been somewhat braced for an attack, but she still lost her footing when he pulled her in. Her eyes were wide and her breathing quick, expecting him to close off her airway at any moment. The cell door opened and the two men were inside at the same time as more security was rushing into the room. "Don't hurt him!" Mercy insisted as they drew near, then her bright eyes turned to the man clutching her. "Please…"

\---

His eyes flicked to the men as they rushed in, but wasn’t worried about them. If they put a bullet in his head, then he would get what he’d wanted in the first place. He looked back to Mercy, considering her. He tightened his hand just enough to show himself that he _could_ do it, then eased off completely. He let it fall and was left holding only her hand.

\---

She looked so relieved when he released her throat. He could have done it, but he let her go and no one had gotten hurt. Just the same, security had taken hold of her and they were tugging her out of the cell, taking the recording device along with them. She had given his hand a squeeze just before they pulled her away, but otherwise didn’t fight them. It wasn't safe and soon he was alone in his cell. 

\---

He didn’t try to keep a hold on her when she was pulled away from him. He remained sitting where he was as she was ushered out. He wasn’t sure what to think of any of this, but there was a lot for him to process. 

\---

She was taken out of the room and she didn't fight the guiding hands that were tugging her toward her room. She needed rest. She had so much to do, but she needed a couple hours of sleep before she'd be able to think clearly. "Get him some water. Make sure to get me if he tries to harm himself." She was giving her orders even as she was escorted to the door of her room, needing to know her patient would be tended to in her absence. 


	17. Chapter 17

By the afternoon, Mercy was looking a lot more composed. She'd gotten a nap, she was back in her lab coat, and her hair was pulled neatly back from her face. It was almost as if she hadn't spent the night with a man who wanted to kill her. Or at least _said_ he did. He hadn’t tried hard when he had the chance. 

She'd gotten a disturbing report and was on her way back to see him, walking swiftly and with purpose, when she saw Soldier 76 standing outside the door to the room that enclosed his cell. He was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. She held in a sigh, already hearing the lecture starting. 

"Do you know how many medical personnel we have on staff that could check on him? People he doesn't have a personal vendetta against?" Not that he thought that would stop him. He'd kill anyone and everyone that got close enough. 

"I do. They're _my_ staff." She didn't have time for this. She had test results to review and a surgery yet to oversee before the day was done. "I need to check on my patient."

"You need to stay away from him." Jack said firmly, his tone dark with disapproval. "You went into his cell unarmed. You spent the night in there with him after he told you flat out that he meant to kill you. You stayed in the morning and he actually did try to kill you. And here you are, walking right back into trouble. Unarmed and alone with a terrorist. You have completely lost your mind."

"He did _not_ try to kill me." Not really. She wasn't sure what that had been, but it hadn't been a genuine attempt on her life. "Security was there. Everything is under control."

"Under control?!" He barked a humorless laugh. "Twice now he's had his hands around your throat. Does that really sound like a situation that's under control? He needs to be dealt with."

The doctor scowled at him. "I don't remember consulting you on what should be done with my patient. Don't you have something more productive to be doing right now? I certainly do." She brushed past him, pushing open the door and slamming it shut behind her. She was clearly ruffled, but took a deep breath to compose herself on the way to the cell. 

\---

The day had been somewhat productive for Reaper. Since killing himself no longer seemed to be the best solution, at least for now, he was back to planning. This plan was considerably different from everything he had come up so far, so it felt promising to him. 

The only issue was that it banked on him being wrong about her. He wasn’t convinced that he was and if that was the case, his plan simply wouldn’t work. She had to be as naive and well-intentioned and she was putting on and that was something he struggled to swallow. 

It was as he was sitting there, thinking about everything she had said to him and had shown him, that he realized he wasn’t hurting. Not the way he normally did. She’d wanted to know from the start if his pain had lessened, but he hadn’t cared what she wanted. Now he was curious and when she came inside, his shirt and mask were off as he ran his fingers over his tears incredulously. At this point he was being a little rougher about it, trying to find the line where it started to hurt like it was supposed to.

\---

She was alarmed to see him acting this way, having been told he had partially undressed and was touching his wounds, but he was being rougher than she had expected. "Gabriel?" She moved in close, almost close enough to touch the bars. "Are you okay? Are you in pain?"

\---

He looked up when she addressed him and he finally stopped his exploring. His experimenting. He studied her for a few breaths, before pushing himself up. “What did you do to me?” This time, the question was calmer. Without accusation. She’d tried to explain herself before, but he hadn’t been ready to listen. He wanted to know what exactly it was that she had done to stop it from hurting so much. 

\---

"A neurological procedure to make the pain receptors less sensitive in those areas." She said tentatively, afraid that he may fly back into a rage at any moment. "You shouldn't have any significant loss of sensation, you should still feel pressure when you touch them. I just...tried to make them less painful for you."

\---

He slowly moved closer still. “That’s all?” Even if she said so, he wasn’t sure he’d believe her. She was being honest about that much though. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this… good. 

\---

"Yes." Unless there were any complications she didn't know of. It was hard to say without examining him and running tests. "Did it help?"

\---

He gave a short nod. “They still hurt… but not like before.” He looked back down at himself and brushed another finger against one of them, as if to make sure. “How do you know it won’t affect me elsewhere?” He’d touched other parts of himself to see if anything was off, but he hadn’t noticed anything. 

\---

"I'm a little familiar with the nervous system. It won't affect you elsewhere." This was said a little pompously, but she thought her confidence was well-earned. "If you want, I can undo it. But it would require another procedure. I won’t do anything else without your permission."

\---

So she’d done something Moira couldn’t… or didn’t care to. “You couldn’t get rid of it completely?” He would not miss if it were gone. Maybe she was right that she could heal them, even if her first attempt had gone how he would have expected. 

\---

"Not yet. If I keep trying, maybe." It was at least a start. She was glad he was staying calm now and she relaxed a little. "But hopefully you can be a little more comfortable now."

\---

He wasn’t going to thank her. He’d never thank her, but in spite of everything, there was a twinge of gratefulness. Not to her, necessarily, but for the fact that something he’d suffered with for years was no longer so bad. “...Do you need to examine me?” He wasn’t a good manipulator, not these days. He was too rash and quick-tempered to try to win anyone over, but he reminded himself that all he needed to do was be more compliant. To let her think he was grateful to her. 

\---

The question surprised her. "...I would like to. But as long as you aren't in pain, it isn't necessary. I won't do anything you don't want me to." She knew he probably wasn't used to Moira giving him such choices when he was in her 'care'.

\---

“If it would prevent the pain from returning, then I would like you to.” He slid his hands around the bars, but was still calm. Much calmer than she would have seen him at any point. He was curious if she would come closer or if after he’d grabbed her she would stay away from him again.

\---

She was near the bars, but she didn’t dare come closer. "...Are you feeling alright? You're not confused or disoriented, are you?" She sounded a little concerned. 

\---

The corner of his lip turned up slightly. “I’m confused why you’re doing this.” There was truth to his words. It wasn’t why he was saying it, but if he was wrong… Why was she trying to help him?

\---

That seemed to relieve her a little. "I'm probably insane." Jack seemed to think so. Almost everyone she'd consulted about this seemed to think so. "You're just...not acting like yourself. Are you dizzy? Do you feel like you might have a fever?" Could he have fevers when his body was so cold?

\---

“For the first time in years, I’m not in agony.” He left it at that, leaving her to fill in whatever blanks she wanted to. He let go of the bars when she stayed away, instead resting his forearms on the rungs in between them so his hands dangled out.

\---

The smile she gave him was small, but warm. "I'm glad." The way things had gone the day before, she thought it had been a total failure. But he was finally hurting less. "If I bring a couple nurses in there with me, will you agree to sit in the chair so we can examine you safely?"

\---

He considered her. He hated the restraints, but he had to comply. If he did, then maybe she would decide the restraints weren’t necessary one day. He loathed to put himself in that situation, but he pushed off the bars and sat down on the chair voluntarily for the first time. 

He even went so far as to start strapping himself in, though he could only manage his feet and one wrist. 

—

Her brows raised - this was such a change from the man she'd seen last night. She looked up to one of the cameras. "Send me two nurses."

It took no time at all for her assistants to arrive. With them came security, who insisted on completing and checking Reaper's restraints before they allowed Mercy inside. 

She went to him then and met his gaze. It was so strange to see him so agreeable. "May I begin your exam?"

\---

He was a lot more tense and agitated when the men started to handle him. He forced himself to take a breath, but he was obviously not doing as well as he had been moments before. He nodded his consent, but was still stiff and worked up.

\---

"Give us space." She shooed the men further back. She could plainly see they'd made him uncomfortable. She moved in and as she typically did, she carefully palpated his neck with her fingertips for any swelling or signs of infection. "Your body responded well to the treatment." It was the first time she spoke to him rather than just dictated to her assistants. "No fever, no infection. You might be a little dehydrated." Without his shirt on it was much easier to inspect him and she looked over one of his open tears. "No sign of healing, unfortunately. I'm going to see how sensitive this is. Tell me if I hurt you and I'll stop…" Her fingers began to rub the skin near the wound, enough to put a little pressure on the surrounding muscle, but not touching the tear itself. 

\---

He snorted. “That’s what O’Deorain liked to say.” That his body has responded extremely well to her treatment. To her experiments. He held still as she examined him, even when she got close to one of his wounds. The spot she touched was one that, while he wouldn’t have enjoyed being touched there, he could have handled. The pain was very specific and it was only direct touches that had ever sent him spiraling into unbearable misery. Now, however, there was hardly any discomfort.

\---

"I'm sure she did." So far, he didn’t seem bothered by her touch. She rubbed the muscle there more firmly, massaging the skin around the tear. "Is that uncomfortable?" She could tell it at least wasn't painful. 

\---

Rather than be uncomfortable… it felt really good. There was a slight ache that came with it, but the rubbing itself seemed to sooth it and his shoulders were sinking as he relaxed. “No.” It had been a long time since he’d felt something that pleasant without it being sexual. He didn’t want her to stop.

\---

"Wunderbar." She took her rubbing closer until eventually her fingers were actually touching the tear lightly. She watched him, waiting to see signs of pain. 

\---

Finally, he flinched. It was a light touch, so his reaction wouldn’t have been dramatic even before, but there was still a little flare of something. His reaction was exaggerated even for what he felt, though, and that was because he’d always been so protective of those spots and to have someone touch them put him on edge. 

\---

She let up immediately. "On a scale of one to ten, how painful was that?" She didn’t think it had been too bad. But it was hard to tell for certain. 

\---

“I don’t know. It’s not that bad… a three?” Where it would have been a six before? It didn’t take much pressure to turn it into a ten, though. Except… well, now it did. 

\---

"Would it have been much worse before the procedure?" She could hear one of the nurses taking notes behind her. That was what they were needed for in these sorts of exams, after all. 

\---

“Worse, but I could have handled it.” He’d been conditioned to have a high pain tolerance. “It’s not until something presses into them or strikes them that it’s unbearable.” Though to call it unbearable wasn’t completely true. He’d proven with Widowmaker that he could bear it, even if it turned him into a wild, shrieking mess.

\---

But it was better, at least. "Do you feel like the difference in your tolerance is significant?" She began to rub the spot right next to the tear again. "Would doing this have been uncomfortable for you before?"

\---

“Yes.” He answered both questions at once. Again, he started to relax, his shoulders sinking from the brief tension that had filled them. He went so far as to lean into the hand lightly, his lids threatening to shut.

\---

It seemed he liked that. For that reason alone, she continued. "That's good. I'll examine you again soon, if you will, to make sure it's still working. If it is, maybe we'll discuss a second procedure to see if I can reduce your pain further." At least until she figured out how to heal him. 

\---

As remarkable as this was, there was no way he would agree to her doing anything else to his mind. For all the reasons that had distressed him so much in the first place. “...Maybe you should check the other ones.” It was framed as if he was concerned the sensitivity might be worse in some places than others, but the reality was that he just wanted her to keep massassing him.

\---

"So long as you're feeling up to it…" She found another tear she could access with his shirt off, rubbing the skin around it and working inward. She needed to see at what point it became uncomfortable for him. 

\---

That felt really nice there as well and even when she got to the point where it ached, he didn’t react this time. His brows furrowed a little, but he remained limp to her touch. He was expecting it this time and even welcoming it this time. Her light touch was no worse than they used to feel all the time.

\---

"How much does that hurt? 1-10 scale again, please." She was surprised he was tolerating this, even as she was actively massaging over the tear. 

\---

He wasn’t a fan of this numbering system and he shrugged. “More than the other one.” Only because it was a lingering touch and she was really rubbing it. “But the way you’re rubbing it feels good.” It was having a negating effect on the discomfort. It wasn’t unpleasant while she worked the muscle.

\--- 

"That's good." She didn't think he could have tolerated this touch before. At least it was somewhat pleasant for him now. "Are there any others you'd like me to check or have you had enough for now?"

\---

As much as he was enjoying it, he didn’t want to have to continue asking her to do it, so he shook his head. “Seems you fixed me up after all, doc.” He was looking forward to getting out of these restraints if they were done here.

\---

"We made progress, at least." She gave him a soft smile. It was a start. She began to release his restraints and paused when she heard a guard behind her. 

"Dr. Ziegler, you shouldn't -"

"Please, he's not a wild animal." She should be a little more cautious, she knew. They had an incident just that morning. But if she didn't trust him, at least a little, he would never trust her. 

\---

He was a little surprised himself. He wouldn’t have thought she’d be so quick to put herself in harm's way again. He rewarded her by remaining as he was, even after he was released. There was a slight scratching of paranoia that may it was her influence that was stopping him from acting, but he couldn’t exactly prove his ability to attack her if he was going to convince her that she was ‘safe’ with him. 

\---

She half-expected him to lunge once he was free and she was relieved when he didn't. "Thank you for letting me examine you." With that, she left his cell, a little amused to see her nurses had already hurried out as soon as she'd started on his restraints. When she was safely on the other side of the bars, she spoke up again. "I'd like to see you drink a little more water if you can. I'll bring extra next time I check on you."

\---

He watched her go, expressionless. “Whatever you say.” He finally rose to his feet and stooped for his shirt and mask, tugging both on. He would probably continue experimenting with them, but for now he was content to put it rest.

\---

"It also seems like you would benefit from massage therapy. If you want, I could arrange that." He'd been leaning into her touch and she wondered how long it had been since anyone had touched him gently. 

\---

“From who?” He wasn’t interested in letting anyone else touch him. If she would massage him… well, it would have more than one benefit. The more immediate one, which he couldn’t deny he was interested in, but it would also be another way to earn her trust. 

\---

"You would probably get the most out of it if a professional therapist did it." That had been her intention, but the question was enough to tell her he was distrustful of letting just anyone work on him. "But I could do it myself, if you prefer."

\---

“I would prefer.” If someone was going to be rubbing his body, he wanted it to be her. Otherwise, he would go without. He didn’t think he needed it, whatever her reason was for suggesting it.

\---

"Then maybe we'll try that tomorrow." Maybe he would trust her a little more. She'd have to gage his temperament to determine if she could go in with him without the restraints in place. It would make for a better massage if he could lay down. 

\---

He folded his arms. “Whatever you say,” he repeated, but the words were a little lighter this time. In truth, he was looking forward to it. He wasn’t social, but he didn’t like being locked up in a room for as long as he was without seeing _someone_.

\---

She smiled. "Thank you for being so agreeable. Get some rest." Though he was probably fairly rested now that he'd actually slept. She started out, feeling a little better about their progress. 


	18. Chapter 18

When McCree stepped into the room later that evening, he was alone. He knew ‘Reaper’ wasn’t the man he used to be and he thought what Dr. Ziegler was doing was admirable, but pointless. Something had snapped in Reyes and he was, for lack of a better word, nuts. He hadn’t really intended on stopping by, but then he’d heard what had happened the previous night. Something about it… Well, it just hadn’t sat well with him. 

The man looked up at the sound of his spurs and he was greeted with a glare. McCree drew out a cigar and lit it, knowing full well that the doctor would have fussed at him if she were here. He inhaled deeply and then let the smoke out slowly as he dropped down into the chair that Mercy often used to observe him. 

There was a lingering silence between them as they peered at once another. It seemed McCree was in no hurry to speak, so it was Reaper that finally snapped, “What do you want, McCree?”

The cowboy took another puff of his cigar. “You know, I have a bandana that looks just like that.” He rarely wore it, but when he did, he used it to cover his face to similar effect. 

The glare strengthened. 

There was another silence and McCree waited until it seemed he was so agitated that he was going to snap again to break it. “So bedsheets, huh? Couldn’t find any rope in there?” He had a length of rope sitting on his hip that he could hand over, if he wanted to. 

That earned a growl and he watched the man approach the bars. He took in his eyes and wondered, grimly, what else was hidden beneath his mask. “Is that why you’ve come? To mock me?” 

The cowboy tapped his ash to the floor. “For a man that was quick to brag about everything you taught me, you’re equally as quick to forget who it was that taught _you_ to tie a noose.” There was something somber to the statement. Regretful. 

Back then, he wouldn’t have thought he’d try something like that. 

There was another pause. “What happened to you, Reyes?” He had never understood it. The man had always been a bit wild, but he’d also always been loyal. The betrayal had come out of nowhere and he had a hard time swallowing that he had turned against Overwatch the way he had. 

“Don’t play stupid.” 

“If you’re suggesting I should know why you’re on a killing spree, you’ve got me.” He didn’t know what he’d done any of the things he’d done, much less why he seemed to have a vendetta against everyone involved with Overwatch. He knew the man wanted them dead. Wanted him dead, even, he just didn’t know why. 

There was another growl. “You know what Morrison did.” 

“Jack?” Sure, they hated each other, but Morrison’s hate seemed a bit more grounded than Reyes’. “What did Jack do? Take the post you wanted?” If that’s what he was suggesting… It didn’t add up. 

\---

Mercy stepped into the room and was greeted with the smell of cigar smoke. McCree. Probably agitating her patient and undoing all of her hard work. 

She strode up to her chair in swift steps and yanked the cigar right from his fingers, smashing it out on the table that held her notepad. "Jesse, how many times do I have to talk to you about smoking in the medical ward? Did you come here just to antagonize my patient?"

\---

McCree straightened, then stood with a sheepish little smirk. “Come on now, this isn’t really ‘the medical ward’.” Though situated right in the middle of the medical ward, he felt this particular room didn’t count. It was more of a prison, wasn't it? Even if he was surrounded by medical devices on this side of it. “I’m not antagonizing anyone, am I Reyes?”

Reaper continued to glare at him, but said nothing. McCree’s response was interesting and though he could push him, he’d rather talk to the woman who _did_ know what he was talking about. 

\---

"It's still the medical ward and you're not to smoke in here." She found the smell a little nauseating. She looked at Reaper, finding him to look quite antagonized, then back to Jesse. "Then why are you here?"

\---

“Heard about what happened.” He looked between them and then a hand lifted to tug his hat up. He scratched at the back of his head awkwardly, and then the hat dropped back into place. “I just-” He wasn’t sure what to say. He wasn’t really sure how he felt, in truth. If they had to kill him, that was one thing, but then they ought to kill him. Putting him in a position where he would try to kill himself was not right.

“You sure you’re doing the right thing, Angela?”

\---

At that, she softened and her eyes lowered. "...He's been through a lot. I was trying to help him, but I made it worse." If he had killed himself, it would have been the biggest failure of her life. No doctor could save everyone and her career was full of bitter failures, but this one would have been devastating. She looked to Reaper briefly, then back to McCree. "I think I've finally found a way to help. I can't speak for Gabriel, but I think he's feeling a little better today."

\---

Maybe he’d talk to her about it sometime. What she was attempting with this and what she hoped to accomplish. It wasn't as if they could ever trust him. They couldn’t release him… So even if she did what she hoped to, what was the point? If nothing else, he’d like to know what had happened to him. What had caused him to leap off the deep end and turned him into whatever it was that was standing on the other side of the bars. 

“Hope so. Should get going, I suppose.” He slipped his hand into his pocket and felt around for another cigar. This one he’d at least wait until he was outside to light. “If you need anything,” his eyes went to Reyes, “let me know…” Maybe he could help her with him. 

\---

"I'll let you know." Her tone was still softer, not quite so defensive of her patient since it seemed he hadn’t done any real harm. She handed him the remains of the smashed cigar. "Please slow down on these. I really don't want you on my list for a lung transplant."

\---

He took the remnants from her. He could try to salvage it, but he’d just toss it. “Lungs gotta go to someone.” With a little smile and a tip of his hat, he made his way out of the room. 

Reaper was irritated. The way they had talked about him… like some pathetic puppy. He didn’t want sympathy from either of them and it grated on him for them to talk like that in front of him. “Who knows?” It wasn’t a very specific question, but his mind was still on his short conversation with McCree.

\---

She watched him go, then looked to the man behind the bars. "About what?" About what happened last night? She moved a little closer, but not too close since he was agitated. 

\---

“About Morrison.” Either McCree _was_ playing dumb, or he didn’t know what the man had done. If that was the case, he wondered who did. Mercy did, but why her? 

\---

She tensed. No wonder he was so worked up. "...I don't know. I don't think anyone knows the whole story except you and him." 

\---

“Then why don’t you tell me what you know.” Maybe he’d assumed that she knew more than she did. Maybe she had an idea, enough to know why he’d done what he’d done, but without any of the details. Maybe that was why she was still willing to work with him. 

\---

That wasn’t an easy thing to discuss. It wasn’t right to share what Jack had told her when his mental state was compromised, but it wasn't right to keep him in the dark about how much she knew of their history either.

She took a seat in her chair. "I know he approved of your methods, or at least looked the other way, in Blackwatch. The same methods he tried to vilify you for when Overwatch came under scrutiny."

\---

“Vilify me?” He shook his head, scowling. “He meant to throw me to the wolves. He wasn’t just going to blame me, he was going to frame me. He wanted Overwatch to come off clean, so he had to make it look like it was only me. That I was operating on my own and with malicious intent. Even if that meant that I would be executed for treason.” It would have been either that or a life imprisoned, but he was positive that Morrison would have pushed for death. If he had been killed, there would have been no one to challenge him. 

\---

Her stomach turned and she frowned deeply at him. That didn't sound like Jack at all, but she knew that, at least to some degree, it had to be true. "I'm...so sorry, Gabriel. I don’t think anyone knows the extent of it."

\---

He didn’t doubt it. Morrison would have made sure that no one could know the extent of it. He didn’t want her meaningless apology, so he disregarded it. “Maybe now you understand why I won’t stop until he’s dead.” He probably wouldn’t stop even once he was dead. He didn’t actually think she’d understand, but everyone was so quick to call him insane. They weren’t wrong, he supposed, but his insanity was justified. Even if they wouldn’t agree.

\---

"He knows he was wrong. He feels really guilty and it eats at him. Maybe if you two could…" She couldn't in her wildest dreams imagine them talking it out, but maybe it didn't have to end in death. 

\---

He growled. “What eats at him is that he can’t walk in here and put a bullet in my head.” He could, but it obviously wasn’t allowed. Otherwise, he was certain he would already be dead. “Do not for a moment suggest that he regrets what he tried to do to me. The only thing he regrets is that I found out before he could do it.”

\---

"It's the only reason I know any of this. He had to confess to someone. He feels terrible. You didn't deserve it." She couldn't say he regretted it. She thought if he had it to do over again, that he wouldn't have changed his mind about what he needed to do.

\---

He gripped the bars, obviously angry. “I’m just a rabid dog that needs to be put down, remember?” That was what he’d become and he didn’t regret it anymore than Morrison regretted what _he’d_ become. The kind of man that betrayed his brother in arms. “Don’t let him fool you - he’ll turn on all of you if he has to.”

\---

She shook her head. "After what he did to you...I think he would, yes." He'd betrayed someone so close to him. If he felt he had to, he would probably do so again. 

\---

“Then maybe we should tell the others.” As if they were suddenly in this together. He loved the idea of forcing them to ostracize him. Of making everyone turn on him. He knew better, though, they wouldn’t. Even if they believed him, and he didn’t think they would, they would forgive him. 

\---

"Would that help you heal?" She didn't know what that would mean for Overwatch. If anyone would even believe him. But maybe it would bring some of the violence to a stop. 

\---

He scoffed. Heal. What did that even mean? He let go of the bars and turned away from her. He leaned back into them instead, folding his arms over himself. “No.” There was no healing from any of this. 

\---

"Gabriel…" She rose from her seat, moving closer. "If you want to tell everyone, I support you. You deserve to have your side of the story told…" 

\---

He heard her and his head turned slightly, so his ear was facing her. “It wouldn’t change anything. For them or for me.” Even if everyone was suddenly on his side, it didn’t take away the years of animosity. His hate for Overwatch hadn’t been immediate. At least, not for the individuals in it. It had grown over time. 

\---

He was probably right. "Alright, but if you change your mind, I will help you." She touched his shoulder against her better judgement, familiar enough with his body now to know how to avoid his tears even while he was dressed. 

\---

Initially, he simply stood there, taking in the touch. It had been a long time since someone had offered him such a simple comfort. She’d held his hand a couple of times now, but those situations had been different. Slowly, he turned his head and then his body, his shoulder pressing into the bar as he looked at her. She was close and when a hand wrapped back around one of the bars, it was obvious that he wanted to be closer.

\---

Her heart was pounding. She was too close and they were alone, but he hadn't turned to her aggressively. She felt he was accepting her comfort and seeking more of it. When he was facing her, she ran her fingers softly over his forearm. Not a massage like before, but a comforting caress. 

\---

He was silent, his eyes on her hand. He seemed to be considering her. Eventually he reached out and ran his fingers over her arm in return. Unlike him, her lab coat covered her arm, but the gesture was the same even so. 

\---

That was unexpected. She was still anticipating trouble, but she wanted to believe it wouldn’t happen. That they were really connecting and he still had the capacity to be gentle. She gave him a soft, cautious smile and took his hand in hers. 

\---

He held her hand in return, his eyes rising to look at her. It was… uncomfortable in a way, but he would be lying to say it didn’t feel a little nice too. What was most important, however, was that she thought this meant something more that it did. 

\---

She had trouble holding his gaze, but she made herself do it. This wasn’t a lost cause. She was getting somewhere with him. She stroked her thumb lightly over his hand. “Are you sore after your exam this afternoon or are you feeling alright?” Maybe the change in subject would be welcome.

\---

“I’m alright.” That was a lie, but not about the soreness of his tears. “...Perhaps you could stay a while?” He almost hoped that she would say no. He had no idea what he would do if she hung around at length. Her visits were always in and out and while he preferred that to not seeing anyone at all, he appreciated that their interactions were brief. 

\---

There was plenty of work left to do before she slept, but he was inviting her to stay around him and it seemed foolish to turn it down. He might not ask again. “I can stay a little while.” 

\---

As if to reward her for her answer, his thumb gave hers a little stroke in return. He didn’t know what else to say and silence was more comfortable. He imagined she’d want her hand back eventually, but he would wait until she took it back. 

\---

She was tired and eventually she found herself leaning into the bars a little. Her few hours of sleep were starting to fail her and she realized she’d probably have to leave some of her work unfinished for the night. “Will you be okay alone tonight?” Her voice was quiet, hoping for an honest answer. She didn’t want to leave him without at least someone to talk to if he might fall into despair again. 

\---

She really was as naive as she seemed, wasn’t she? For the first time, he wondered if she’d meant everything she’d said. For the first time, he was willing to entertain it. “Yes.” He didn’t want her hanging around for that long. He also didn’t want her sending someone in to watch him. Whoever was watching him on the cameras was more than enough.

\---

“I’m glad.” For multiple reasons. He seemed to be feeling quite a bit better. She also didn’t think she could do it a second night in a row and she’d have to ask people from her staff to sit with him. She closed her eyes, glad to let the bars take a little of her weight.

\---

He could see how tired she seemed all of a sudden. Was it late? It could be any time of day, as far as he was aware, but it seemed like it was late. His free hand slid through the bars to rest on her shoulder, to help her stay steady, even if it wasn’t really necessary.

\---

The corners of her lips turned up when he helped take her weight. He really did have a bit of a sweet side. “Sorry. I missed my afternoon coffee, I’m running on fumes.” There wasn’t enough coffee in the world to keep her going when she pulled all-nighters with patients. Still, she let him help support her for a few more minutes before she decided it was best to get to bed. She straightened up and gave his hand a squeeze. “I should turn in for tonight. But I’ll come see you in the morning and if you’re feeling up to it, we’ll try a massage.”

\---

When she was done, he withdrew. “See you, doc.” He studied her for another breath, then turned and made his way back to his bunk. It had been a long day for him as well and though he didn’t think he’d be sleeping anytime soon, it would be nice to lay down. He had a lot to think about and nothing else to do.

\---

She watched him go to his bunk, then headed out. She hoped the night would be uneventful. He seemed calm enough and she was confident her team would rouse her if there were any problems. It felt like they'd finally made some significant progress and she was cautiously optimistic that they'd get even further the next day. 


	19. Chapter 19

Mercy was looking far more rested when she made her way into the room the next morning. The night had been blissfully uneventful and she'd slept without a single interruption.

Security was on her heels and she knew they weren't thrilled about her plans. Word would probably get to Jack and she'd probably get another lecture later. But she felt she could do this safely enough, so long as she wasn't completely alone. 

"Good morning, Gabriel."

\---

Reaper was awake, lounging on his bunk when the door opened. He remained as he was, in no hurry to hop up. He was curious if she was really meant to massage him or if she would have changed her mind. 

Though he’d let the name slide many times, he decided to take another stab at correcting her. “Reaper.” 

\---

She shook her head, but didn't argue. "How are you feeling today? Did you want to try a massage this morning?" Maybe he would be sore from the poking and prodding she did before. But she hoped she'd ultimately done his knotted muscles a little good. 

\---

“If that’s what you think is best.” He did want it, but he didn’t want to seem like he wanted it. He was curious how she intended on doing it, but he stayed as he was. He’d let her dictate it. It wasn’t as if he really had a choice.

\---

"It is." She approached the door to his cell, then hesitated. "...I'd like to do this with you unrestrained. You'll get a lot more out of this. Will that be alright?" She knew he'd much prefer it that way. But he told her he would kill her outright before and she wondered if he still felt that way. 

\---

“Why would I argue?” If she was asking if he was going to attack her, then she ought to ask that. If she was going to beat around the bush, then he wasn’t going to bother reassuring her. 

\---

The corners of her lips turned up. It seemed he was in decent humor if he was giving her a hard time. "Are you going to hurt me if I go in there with you?"

\---

“If I was going to hurt you, could you really trust my answer?” He finally swung his legs down to the floor, sitting up. He’d like to hurt her, but that could come in time.

\---

"No." But she still would have liked to hear it. "Please take your shirt off and lay face-down if you want me to come in."

\---

He did as he was bid, lifting his shirt off. At this point enough people had seen him that there was no need to be shy. He turned to lower himself down to his stomach, his hands folding beneath his head as he waited for her to come in.

\---

She felt a little better when he was prone and nodded up to the cameras to let her into the cell. She approached him and took a seat on the bare mattress beside him. Eventually they'd get him new sheets, but not anytime soon. 

"I brought a warming oil that should help loosen your muscles. Do you mind if I use that?" She took a small bottle from her pocket, having swiped it from one of the massage therapists.

\---

He shrugged. “Go ahead.” His eyes were fixed on the wall in front of him, but since there wasn’t much to see there, he shut them. If this felt anything like her massaging had yesterday, then he was looking forward to it. 

\---

She poured some oil into her palm, then coated her fingers with it, feeling it start to warm up against her skin just as the bottle promised. She turned toward him and started up on his shoulders, starting to slowly massage the muscles there. She’d learned the day before that she could get very close to his wounds without causing him any real discomfort, so she hoped she could ease tension in a lot of his muscle groups.

\---

It took a beat, but he visibly relaxed from her touch. The tension he always held slowly softened and he let himself sink into the bunk. He couldn’t help but wonder how many prisoners were given massages by beautiful, stupid doctors. 

\---

The more he relaxed beneath her fingers, the more she relaxed as well. He wasn't going to hurt her, at least so long as she was doing this. Jack would have an aneurysm if he knew she was giving her 'rabid dog' a massage, but frankly, it wasn’t his business. She worked silently and diligently, wanting to be thorough in case this was the only chance he gave her at easing his pain this way. 

\---

He’d had no idea how much he needed something like this. She was drawing grunts and groans from him whenever her fingers worked a spot that was particularly tender. The warmth of the oil was a good compliment to her fingers - a marked difference from the icy digits that had trailed over his flesh not all that long ago.

\---

The sounds were encouraging - she never had formal training in this sort of thing, but it seemed she was still doing him some good. Maybe she would be able to convince him to let an expert massage him. She was moving to different parts of his back, but the progression was very slow and she occasionally backtracked to areas she'd already kneaded. 

\---

After a while, he was completely melted. He could not recall the last time he was so relaxed. So at peace. He would have argued that peace wasn’t possible for him. Yet here he was, utterly content. 

\---

He was so relaxed beneath her hands, she started to wonder if he'd fallen asleep. Eventually her hands fell still, no longer rubbing him but not breaking the contact either. "How do you feel?" She asked very quietly, so as not to wake him if he had gone to sleep. 

\---

He had to muster his response, “Incredible.” He didn’t want her to stop, but then if he could have his way, she’d likely never stop. He adjusted his head, his eyes opening, but there was still nothing to see and so they shut again. If she was finished, he’d probably just stay like this for a while.

\---

She smiled warmly. It was working. He was not only not in pain, but he felt _good_. She got back to work then, deciding she would get each area one more time before she wrapped it up. 

\---

He was happy when she resumed what she was doing, not really recognizing how tranquil he was. He didn’t even really feel like himself right now. He took in a deep breath and then let it out slowly, sighing to himself.

\---

When she'd finished her final pass over his muscles, she gave him a very soft pat to let him know she was finished. "It looks like that was good for you. Maybe regular sessions like this will help with your pain."

\---

“Okay.” Even his voice was less rough and the simple agreement was enough to show just how much of an impact she’d had on him. He would do this everyday, if she would.

\---

"Is there anything else I can do for you right now?" It was so rewarding to hear the change in him. She wondered how long it had been since he felt this at peace. 

\---

She could keep rubbing him, but he imagined that wasn’t an option. “No.” He turned his head a little, looking up at her out of the corner of his eye. If he was going to thank her, this would be the time to do it. He couldn’t, though. Not even if he didn’t mean it. It made him sick to consider thanking her for anything, so he didn’t. 

\---

She rose from the mattress and smoothed her coat. "I'll check on you later. Drink plenty of water, alright?" She didn't wait for an answer, starting out. She wanted to give him space and let him rest while he was so relaxed. 

\---

He watched her go and when she was gone, he shut his eyes again. If he stayed like this, he might actually get some sleep. The bunk was uncomfortable as all hell, but for the first time since he’d woken up here, it felt good to lay on it.


	20. Chapter 20

Mercy’s stomach was turning when she approached the bars this time. Things had been going so well. She thought they were really connecting over the last few days and now...now she might have to undo all of it. 

"...I need to ask something of you." She said by way of greeting, her eyes solemn. 

\---

When Mercy approached lately, Reaper would go to the bars to greet her. Things had been going well and that was because he was trying to help with that as much as she was. He noticed immediately that something was off and was guarded as he took in her expression. “...What?” She obviously knew he wasn’t going to like whatever it was.

\---

"I need to give you an injection." She knew she probably didn't have to tell him what it was, but she did anyway. "It's what I'm doing to negate your abilities."

\---

He stared at her. He hadn’t realized that whatever she had given him was something she needed to continue giving him. “No.” He stepped back from the bars, as if she was going to pull out a dart gun and shoot him right there.

\---

That wasn’t a surprising response. “I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t absolutely necessary. I feel like this is going really well and I don’t want you to have to stay in this cage forever. But if we want to continue working together, I _have_ to give you this.” Her tone was soft. “Please…”

\---

“No,” he repeated, firmer. He was continuing to back up. To the very back of the cell, as if it would make any difference if she decided to force it on him. “You don’t have to.” He shook his head, his eyes going from her face to her hands, expecting her to whip it out any moment.

\---

“I do.” She insisted and when she saw the way he was watching her, she raised her open hands to show him they were empty. “I promised you I wouldn’t do anything without your permission and I’ll keep my word. But this injection is the only way I can assure Overwatch that I can keep you here safely.”

\---

“How long until it wears off?” How long would he have to wait it out before he could escape? The thought that he could have his abilities back and be out of here sometime soon was enough to have his heart racing.

\---

“I haven’t had much opportunity to test it. Maybe a few more days at most.” She shook her head. “If I can’t give this to you before then, you won’t be my patient anymore. I don’t know how long you’ll have before leadership steps in and…” She didn’t know for certain. But he would almost certainly be executed. “Please, I really don’t think this is a lost cause. I think I can help you.”

\---

“Then don’t tell them.” Cautiously, he started to approach her again. “You don’t really think I belong in here, do you?” Maybe he was pushing his luck with that question, but he was becoming more and more convinced that she really was trying to ‘help’ him. That she wasn’t trying to use him for her own gain. 

\---

“It isn’t an option. I’m being watched as much as you are.” She sighed and moved in closer as well when he did. “I have to keep you in there. We’re making progress, but right now they would never let you leave this cell alive. This is the only way I can keep you safe.” It was the only way she could keep anyone safe. If he refused the injection, Overwatch would have him killed. If he escaped somehow, she had no doubt he would kill as many people as he could on his way out. Including her.

\---

He was sure she was right, but he was also sure that she could find a way around it if she really wanted to. “Angela…” It was the first time he’d said her name since he’d used it against her. When he reached the bars, he gripped them, well-aware that he was putting himself in ‘danger’ if she decided to do it to him anyway.

\---

It was jarring to hear him say her name. Her eyes were soft and she reached out to touch his hand lightly. “I want to help you. But this is out of my hands if you refuse this treatment.”

\---

He let her touch her his hand and then took it a step further, his free hand slipping through the bars so he could touch her side. He used it to tug her a little closer. “I want you to help me too, but we both know that’s not a treatment.”

\---

She tensed when he pulled her closer, but didn’t try to get away from him. “It’s the only way. I don’t want them to hurt you, Gabriel. If you let me give you this injection, I can keep working with you. I can show them you’re not a monster.”

\---

His eyes flashed, but he held back the emotion that had him riled. He knew that there really was no other way. She wasn’t in a place where she would hide this for him. His fantasy of escape would have to wait. Of the arms he could have offered her, he ended up holding out the one she was touching. He kept his hand on her side since that was the more intimate touch of the two.

\--- 

The relief was all over her face. She reached into her pocket, drawing out an alcohol square and a syringe. She moved so swiftly, afraid he would change his mind. She swabbed the skin clean, pulled the cap from the syringe, and injected him with fast, steady hands. “Thank you…” She meant it and her voice was a little strained. She’d expected this to end in disaster.

\---

Beneath the mask, his lips were set. He didn’t react to the shot and when it was done, he lowered the arm in defeat. The one on her side started to loosen, but after a moment, he tightened it once more, tugging on her in further. So that if the bars weren’t between them, they’d almost be chest to chest.

\---

She recapped her needle and put it back in her pocket. It was done. She let him tug her in further and she put a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Thank you.” She said again, wishing she sounded a little more composed this time. Maybe it would mean something to him that she didn’t do it against his will. That even if he didn’t have much of a choice, she’d still given him control.

\---

“Just promise me it won’t get rid of them completely…” If there was some risk that prolonged exposure would completely remove his abilities, he would never let her give him another shot again. 

\---

“I promise.” It was experimental so she couldn’t be _completely_ certain. But there had been no signs of the drug being more or less effective with repeated exposure. Either way, not giving it to him wasn’t an option. 

\---

The pricked arm rose and he held her hand to his shoulder. He waited for what seemed long enough, then he slowly pulled her hand up and brought it to his jaw. It happened to be on his good side - the side of his face that was not marred with tears and so he silently encouraged her to touch him there. 

\---

Her heart was pounding. She needed to trust him. He wasn’t going to lash out and bite her. She cupped his face in her hand, running her thumb lightly over his cheekbone. She hadn’t touched him here as much and she was a little less confident about where his tears were beneath the mask, so her touch was especially ginger. 

\---

He hated this… and yet, his head tipped into her hand. Every step of this was calculated, even when his arm slid around her completely and he pulled her in against the bars. She was pinned now, but he made sure there was none of the malice in his heart reflected in his touch. He was embracing her through the metal that kept them separated.

\---

She wrapped her arm around him in return, holding him as well as she could with the bars between them. This wasn’t supposed to end in a hug, but here they were. She wasn’t sure how much of this he meant. Maybe he was just buttering her up to make sure this would be the last injection, but she didn’t think the Reaper she’d seen before was capable of faking this sort of gentleness. “Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable this evening?” There wouldn’t be any side effects to the injection, but she wanted to ask anyway.

\---

He scoffed to himself. Ever the professional, wasn’t she? He let go of her and eased back so he wasn’t so pressed into the bars himself. “No.” There was a lot she could do, actually, but nothing that she would actually do. He was in for another night of staring at a wall. 

\---

“...Do you want me to stay with you a little while? I could try a different kind of massage.” She’d never offered to stay with him, though he occasionally asked her to. Maybe she could reward him for cooperating, though she hardly felt her company was much of a reward.

\---

The offer surprised him, but it was the offer of a massage that actually appealed to him. “If you like…” it was his way of agreeing without being so direct about it. He was usually extremely direct, but he had to take care not to lay it on so thick that she saw right through him.

\---

“You don’t need to lay down this time. Just have a seat on the bunk and I’ll be right in.” She should wait for security, but she knew they would be on their way. 

\---

He was intrigued by what she had to say. It wasn’t enough to completely take his mind off of what had happened, but maybe once she actually started to massage him, he would feel better about having his identity ripped from him again. He sat down as he was bid, wondering where she intended on rubbing. She normally only worked his back, but that wasn’t really an option if he was sitting up, was it?

\---

When the door to the cell opened, she stepped inside. She could already hear the footsteps of men headed into the room to supervise them. She moved to his cot, then sat down beside him. "I don't have that oil with me, but I think you’ll still like this. Hold out your hand, please."

\---

That was a shame. He rather liked the oil she used. He was a little bemused when told to hold out his hand, but did so. He was sure it would be clear soon enough. His eyes flicked up at the men lingering outside the cell, finding it interesting that they hadn’t come storming in when he’d hugged her. 

\---

She took his hand in both of hers. "One of the massage therapists does this for me once in a while. Especially after I've had long day in surgery." She put some pressure on the meat of his thumb, then began to rub firmly. "You'd be surprised how much tension we hold in our hands."

\---

He watched her hands as she worked him and he was surprised at how pleasant that was. He noted how small her hands were compared to his. Thin and delicate. “It feels good,” he agreed, his eyes lifting to hers. 

\---

When their eyes met, she smiled softly. She mimicked what the therapist had done for her, knowing where to add the most pressure through the steady rubbing of her thumbs. "Next time I'll make sure I have the oil. It's even better with that."

\---

“I bet.” It really was nice. The shotguns he carried around where large and heavy and like she’d said, he hadn’t realized how much tension was there. How much there was in his entire body. “Do you often do this for your patients?” He knew the answer, but he still wanted to hear it. 

\---

"Rarely. But you aren't the first patient who only trusted me to do this for them." He was the only enemy she'd ever massaged, that was for certain. But she'd treated people who had endured great trauma who didn't want to be touched by anyone else. "Would you be offended if I asked you a personal question?"

\---

“Depends on the question.” She hadn’t really tried to ask him anything since the first day. If her question was anything like that one, he wasn’t worried about it. 

\---

“...Is Amelie your friend?” She’d been curious since her early attempt to break him out. It was hard to imagine anyone in Talon being friends, honestly. But she knew some of that idea came from Overwatch’s habit of dehumanizing their enemies. Of course they had friends. 

\---

He frowned. “Her name is Widowmaker.” It was one thing for her to blatantly disregard his name, but it felt worse for her to disregard Widow’s name. He didn’t actually address the question, the disrespect taking precedence. 

\---

She hadn’t really expected him to be defensive of his partner’s name. “Widowmaker.” She agreed for the sake of continuing the conversation. “Are you friends?” She squeezed her way slowly up his fingers with her own, then put pressure on each of his knuckles.

\---

The question was odd. He wasn’t sure why she wanted to know and he also wasn’t sure of the answer. He hesitated, but eventually shook his head. “She is my partner.” He hadn’t felt like he had a friend since he’d been in Overwatch. The only friends he’d had, he wanted dead. He had a strange relationship with friendship.

\---

She considered his answer, then nodded. “I just wondered if there was something more to it. She came right into headquarters with no backup to get you.” But then, the woman wasn’t capable of fear anymore. Maybe it wasn’t the daring rescue attempt she was imaging.

\---

He wasn’t surprised to hear it had been her, but he still thought they had missed something. He didn’t see why Widow would come alone. Even he doubted his ability to complete such a mission alone. He wasn’t about to speculate what had really happened, not for her benefit, so he shrugged. “Why would there be? She doesn’t experience emotion.” How was he supposed to be friends with someone that could never consider him a friend? Even as he said it, though, he knew it wasn’t entirely true. Perhaps they weren’t emotions, so to speak, but she obviously felt some things. 

\---

“I don’t think that’s entirely true. I know they’ve suppressed her emotions a lot… but I think Amelie is still in there.” Just as she felt Gabriel was still here beneath all the pain and rage that had made him into Reaper. She found a spot on his palm and pressed firmly with her thumbs before returning to rubbing.

\---

“I think you’re wrong.” He studied her. “Besides, you said before that it was no rescue mission, so why should I believe a word you are saying now?” She’d lied to him, even though he’d known it was a lie from the start, so why should he take anything she was saying to him seriously?

\---

“Only because she was alone. It just doesn’t seem like something Talon would have organized.” It seemed like an act of passion. Which was interesting, since Widowmaker was not supposed to be capable of such a thing.

\---

Again, he had no intention of commenting. The fact that she was bringing it up at all made him suspicious. That she was trying to get information out of him. “Hmph, I prefer her as she is.” He had no interest in Amelie and he would be… disappointed if she changed. 

\---

“What do you like about her?” The question was soft and conversational. What qualities did he appreciate in an ally, even if he didn’t feel he had friends? She began to roll and massage his wrist, adding gentle tension to the joint, then releasing it.

\---

He made a little sound, enjoying what she was doing with her hands, even if he wasn’t enjoying her interrogation. “She’s a good partner.” He knew that wasn’t what she was looking for, but he didn’t see the point in sitting here and extolling the virtues of his partner.

\---

“Good partners are invaluable.” She began to work his finger joints in the same way - giving them tension, then easing it away. “Does that feel good?” It was an excuse to escape the conversation.

\---

“Yes.” He was silent for a while, mulling over what she’d said. “Why are you willing to call her Widowmaker, but you won’t call me Reaper?” She insisted on calling him Gabriel, even though he openly disapproved of it. It wasn’t as if denying his existence was going to make who he was disappear.

\---

“I don’t know for sure she’s still Amelie. I know you’re still Gabriel.” She set down that hand, asking silently for the other. “You deserve to be treated like a real person.”

\---

“Do you not go by Mercy?” What was the difference? The difference for him was that Reaper had replaced Gabriel and so everytime she refused to call him by his name, she refused to accept him. She had this naive hope that he would open his eyes and decide the last decade hadn’t happened, but it had. 

\---

“I answer to it, but it’s not who I am. I’m Dr. Angela Ziegler. You are Gabriel Reyes, not death incarnate. You’re not just the product of your pain. You’re better than that.” She held her hand out further, urging him to give her his other hand. 

\---

He eventually gave her what she wanted, letting her start on his other hand. “...And if you’re wrong?” What then? When would she give up on him? He wouldn’t let her - he was working on convincing her she was right, but he still wanted to know what she would do if she decided he was hopeless.

\---

“I am not.” She said firmly, but she followed it with a slight smile. “Don’t you know? Doctors can’t afford to be wrong.” She couldn’t afford to be wrong. His life depended on it. 

\---

“No one agrees with you,” he pointed out, knowing it to be true. He didn’t think there was a single soul inside this complex that wanted him here. Only her. 

\---

“...You’re right about that, but we’ll prove them wrong together.” Not a single person had supported this plan of hers. Even the ones who didn’t want Reaper killed outright had lowered their eyes and kept quiet when she’d looked for support on this.

\---

She was stupid, but the way she was sticking up for him… No one had been supportive of him for a long time. She had really gone out on a limb for him, hadn’t she? “And then what?” His voice was quieter.

\---

“Then we figure out how to get you out of here.” She knew that was a long way off, if it would ever happen at all, but it was her ultimate hope. “I’m not hoping for a group hug or for you to rejoin or anything crazy like that. If it would be enough to make the killing stop ...that would be enough.” If she could convince him that he should stop working for Talon. That he should stop hunting them.

\---

“The killing is never going to stop.” Whether he was alive or dead, or whatever else, Overwatch would continue to kill. Talon would continue to kill. Every mercenary group in existence would continue to kill. “There’s more to it than that. You chose _me_.”

\---

She paused in her work and when she met his eyes, there was something tired in her gaze. Something defeated. She knew the killing wouldn’t stop. Not really. But she could slow it down. She could stop some of the deaths and know that she tried her hardest. “I chose you because you’re worth saving. Maybe Overwatch will see that Talon is not full of the villains they make you out to be. Maybe Talon will see that not everyone in Overwatch is a hypocrite. The killing won’t stop, but maybe it’ll be a start.”

\---

She was really stupid. Even so, he pulled his hand from hers and he brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. She was older now, but her mindset had not changed from when he met her. She still seemed like a child. “I don’t think you’re being honest. You wouldn’t care about stopping me or saving me if it wasn’t Overwatch I wanted to end.” She was ‘saving’ him because she thought it meant saving Overwatch.

\---

The touch was shockingly tender and she found her cheeks flushing a little in her surprise, but his words grounded her and her brows knitted as she shook her head. “No. That’s not true at all. I want to help _you_. If it makes you want to kill me a little less, that would be a bonus. My loyalty is to helping those who need me. Not Overwatch.”

\---

“Then how am I any different than they are?” He was extremely different. He was more deadly than all of them combined, but what he did and what they did were really not so different. On paper, the only real difference was he was on a different side. “Why not save them?”

\---

“You’re not that different. That’s why I know I can help you.” She gave him a weary smile. “I’m working on saving them, but you’re the one who is most dangerous and in the most danger right now. That’s why we’re here.”

\---

It gave him a little lick of pleasure for her to admit that he was the most dangerous person here. He did not think that was a bad thing. “I’m in danger because of you.” Because she’d wanted to do this to him. That was why they’d trapped him… He was still so angry at himself for falling into it so easily.

That was her fault too, though, wasn’t it? The reason why they had never trapped him before was because they had no way to stop him. It was her experiment that made him vulnerable.

\---

“No.” She shook her head again and rose from the cot. “You would have been executed if not for me. It wasn’t my plot to bring you here. They meant to kill you and I scrambled to come up with a way we could take you alive instead.” 

\---

“Yes,” he insisted, his voice darker. “They would have never been able to execute me if it wasn’t for you. If it wasn’t for this.” He gestured to the red dot in his skin. “I could have protected myself, but you made it impossible.” It sounded as if his anger was welling, but he remained where he was.

\---

She needed to get out and she backed slowly toward the door of the cell. “I’m sorry you feel that way.” This could end in disaster after all, but so long as he stayed where he was, she could take her leave without it escalating.

\---

His low, threatening chuckle filled the air. “You don’t believe it yourself, doc. How do you expect them to?” Rather than pursue her, he lifted his legs to the bunk and lowered himself so he was laying, his arms folding beneath his head.

\---

She exhaled slowly when she was safely on the other side of the bars. “It will take time.” And patience. But this was still progress. There would be growing pains along the way, but at least he hadn’t attacked her, even if he was angry.

\---

He ignored her. He was done with her for today. Tomorrow he would have to resume pretending he didn’t hate her, but for today, he was done. 

\---

She turned and headed out, a little discouraged and disheartened, but she was nowhere near giving up. She would try again tomorrow. 


	21. Chapter 21

Jack had been getting regular reports from the security team. Beyond that, he frequently reviewed the surveillance footage. What he’d seen was...disturbing to say the least. He knew McCree had tried to talk some sense into the doctor, but she had continued this insane project of hers. She’d gotten much too relaxed about going in there with him and the security detail had gotten much too relaxed about letting it happen. 

He chose a time when he knew Angela would be occupied elsewhere in the medical ward, then made his way into the room that housed Reaper. His jaw set as soon as he saw him and he walked in slowly, making his way to the doctor’s chair and having a seat. 

\---

As soon as Morrison stepped in, his hackles raised. He had passed the last hour or so by getting some exercise in and there was still a slight sheen of sweat on his skin as he sat on the edge of his bunk to cool down. It seemed there would be no cooling down. His heart picked right back up and his skin flushed as the blood rushed forward. He was on his feet immediately, having no desire to remain sitting while he was around. Even less so when the man had the audacity to make himself comfortable. 

“Either come in here and get it over with or get out.” He either wanted to strangle him or he wanted him gone.

\---

“You don’t give orders around here.” He picked up Angela’s notepad on the side table and skimmed it. There was little he could absorb from it - her rushed writing was full of shorthand he didn’t understand and more than half of it was in German. 

\---

His lips twisted into a smirk. “Neither do you, Strike Commander.” Every word was mocking - he was sure the man missed his position of power. The position he’d happily taken from right under him.

\---

He set the notepad aside, leaning back in the chair. “You still don’t have new bedsheets. If I requisition some for you will you do us a favor and finish what you started?” He had been a little shocked to hear about the suicide attempt. It was so wrong to wish he’d done it… but it would have meant Angela would stay safe if he’d accomplished his goal. 

\---

He growled, lips twitching as his teeth ground together. “So frightened of me that you’d rather leave it to some bedsheets to do what you can’t?” He was trying to turn it around on him without acknowledging what he’d attempted. He was sure the man saw it as weakness. As a victory. 

\---

“It’s a lot less paperwork if you do it for me. I really didn’t think you’d break so fast. One single procedure and you were on your way out.” The Reyes he used to know was so strong-willed. It was bizarre to imagine him trying to hang himself. 

\---

He was obviously getting to him, but his answer was cool. “That has always been the difference between us, Morrison. I’m willing to do what needs to be done.” Even if that meant killing himself to stop them from getting what they wanted. 

\---

That struck a nerve. He crossed one leg over the other, watching him closely. “So what’s your game now? Let Angela get nice and cozy with you in there, then kill her so we’ll assist you with your suicide?”

\---

“Jealous?” He moved a little closer to the bars, though he left a considerable space between them. “I think she likes me more than you.” He was worked up, but he felt like he had some ground. “I don’t blame her. She knows what a cutthroat, backstabbing bastard you are. She tried to tell me that you cry yourself to sleep at night, but I don’t think either of us are actually buying it.”

\---

His lip curled up in a snarl, his fingers tightening on the arms of the chair. “She’s just a kid. She doesn’t understand any of it. She doesn’t understand what you are.” She was hardly a kid anymore, but in his eyes she was still the brilliant blonde teenager who turned up so many years ago. 

\---

“She doesn’t understand what you are, either.” He took another step closer. “The noble Jack Morrison, so tainted by his past he has to hide behind a mask.” He didn’t know the extent of the damage the explosion had caused him, but he knew he never took it off. “I wonder why you haven’t told anyone else. Is it because you know you’d end up behind bars just like mine?”

\---

“Coming from another man in a mask, that doesn’t carry much weight.” He didn’t want anyone to know how much he relied on his disguise these days. Very few people knew about his eyes, but the good Swiss doctor was one of them. “You and I are nothing alike. I don’t kill innocent people. You do, which is why I’m here to tell you to keep your hands off Dr. Zeigler.”

\---

“No, you just frame them.” Morrison had already seen him without his mask on, so he had no qualms with tearing it off. “Your turn.” He wanted to see what it was he was hiding. Clearly he was hiding _something_. 

“I’ll touch her as long as she wants me to touch her.” It wasn’t really like that and he knew it, but their touching was fairly mutual thus far.

\---

“Are you claiming you were innocent?” He scoffed. He was dreaming if he thought he would pull off his mask just because he did, but it was still grimly fascinating to take in the damage that had been done to Reaper’s face. “Don’t act like she wants you to touch her. She just wants to pretend there’s a shred of humanity left of you.”

\---

They both knew that he was. That he was innocent of what he’d tried to pin on him. If he wanted to try to argue the semantics that helped him to sleep at night, then he could go find something reflective to ramble into. When he didn’t move to take off his mask, he wasn’t surprised.

“That’s what I thought, pussy.”

He folded his arms over himself. “The reason you’re here telling me to stop is because you know if you tell her to stop, she won’t. That doesn’t sound like something she doesn’t want to me.”

\---

He snorted. Name-calling would do little to persuade him to remove his mask. "Oh, believe me. I'll be talking to her about it too." Again. "Keep your hands off of her."

\---

“Make me.” He was sounding increasingly smug. He didn’t know how much power ‘Soldier 76’ had these days, but he wasn’t in charge so this idea that he thought he could simply order people around was amusing to him. Especially since Mercy had already proven that she wasn’t going to listen to him.

\---

"I just might." He rose from the chair. "I may not be able to kill you, but I can find ways to make your stay a lot more uncomfortable." If he could make a strong enough argument for the lax security, maybe he could push to have him in constant restraints. He would give up this act a lot faster and Mercy would have no choice but to accept that he was a lost cause. 

\---

“Try me,” he growled, not at all worried. At this point so much was outside of his control, he had to try to take what he could. All the better that he make it worse for him - it would undoubtedly break the sympathetic doctor’s heart and make her all the more eager to comfort him.

\---

He looked at him for a long moment, then just shook his head. It was hard to see him without the mask on. To see that he still _was_ Reyes beneath it all. Someone he had once considered a brother. 

\---

When he didn’t say anything, he thought he’d won this little spat. “Go on, get the fuck out.” He was clearly on his way, so the sooner he saw his back, the better.

\---

He had proven himself to be a monster, but he still struggled to justify how much of that was really Reyes or how much of it was his own fault. "Don't hurt her. She's one of the good ones." He didn't think it mattered to him. Not really. But if she was right about him at all, maybe he'd save his fury for the people who really deserved it. He started out then, knowing it would only lead to more arguing if he was still there whenever the doctor turned up. 

\---

That request was a far cry from his claims of being able to stop him. Of his threats to make him miserable. He watched him go, wishing with every step that he took that he could blow his brains out. Obviously he was scared of the ground he was gaining and it made all the more determined to make sure Mercy was on his side.


	22. Chapter 22

McCree knew that Dr. Zieglar was always on her feet and keeping herself busy, but he also knew that she was pretty good about taking care of herself too. Unless something pressing happened, she generally took her lunch around the same time and it was right around that time that he showed up to her office. He peeked in the window to see if she was there and when he saw her seated at her desk, he rapped on the frame of the door and took a step in.

“Afternoon, Angela. Was wondering if you’d be up for catching some lunch with me.”

\---

She looked up from her notes and smiled to see him. It wasn't unheard of, but always a pleasant surprise to have a chance to socialize. She glanced at her watch, then set her tablet aside. He’d timed his visit well. "Sure, Jesse. Let me grab my things." She rose, stretched with a groan, then slipped off her lab coat, hanging it over the back of her chair. She grabbed her purse, then went to join him at the door. "Ready."

\---

He gave her a crooked smile. “Hope you’re up to taking a little trip?” His hope was to get her out of the facility. To go to a restaurant not too far from here, but away from everyone else. 

\---

Her brows raised. It had been awhile since she'd had reason to go anywhere if it wasn't on a job. "Oh? We're going on an adventure for lunch, are we?" She wasn't so sure it was a good idea. If something went wrong with Reaper and she wasn't here…

There was plenty of other staff that could keep things under control until she returned. Her smile was a little uneasy, but she nodded. "I could use a little change of scenery." She really needed a break. 

\---

“Glad to hear it.” He started out with her, taking her to where he parked his bike. He hopped on and jerked his head to indicate the space behind him. “Hop on.”

\---

She was still worried about leaving Reaper and she had taken out her phone as they walked. She'd just finished texting instructions to call her right away if there was a problem when they reached the bike. She tucked her phone away and climbed onto the bike behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist. "If you drive safely, I won't fuss about the lack of helmets." She teased, knowing this was one of the least dangerous things either of them did. 

\---

He chuckled. “Deal.” The bike roared to life and they were cruising down the road. He hadn’t intended on taking her anywhere far - he knew if he drove for too long, she would start to worry about how long it would take to get back. As such, he opted for what would be a familiar restaurant to both of them, though he imagined she hadn’t been there any more recently than he had. They used to go there as a group from time to time, but that was before.

\---

It was so nice to get out. The wind in her hair was refreshing and the sight of the restaurant did more to lift her spirits than anything had in recent weeks. "I haven't been here in so long…"

\---

“Me either,” he agreed as he parked his bike. He waited for her to jump off first, before he followed. “Hope their beer is still good.” As if that was the most important thing they served. He made his way inside and even though it seemed they were busy, there was no wait for a table. As soon as they were seated, they were given menus and as he pulled his in, he was already placing his order for a drink. 

\---

Mercy ordered tea for herself. It probably wasn't enough caffeine to get her through the rest of her day, but it would help. "I'm glad you asked me to go to lunch. I needed this." Just a little time away. She looked over the menu, glad to see that little had changed. 

\---

He gave her a smile, but there was a twinge of guilt in it. This wasn’t just lunch for the sake of having lunch, but if she needed some time to take her mind off work, they could talk after they finished their food. As such, he kept the topic light.

\---

Work was the last thing she wanted to talk about. She was happy with the light conversation, talking about everything from gossip around headquarters to the mystery novel she'd been reading in the little spare time she had before bed. The food was far better than anything she'd had in awhile and she cleaned her plate in record speed in her enthusiasm. 

\---

When he finished, he sat back with a little sigh. “Well, that was delicious, if I do say so myself.” He pulled his beer in and sipped it, rather content while his stomach was full.

\---

"It was. We should do this more often." More than every once in a blue moon. She checked her phone briefly, was relieved to see some test results about her other patients but nothing she needed to tend to immediately, then tucked her phone away again. "Is the beer still as good as you hoped?"

\---

“It is. They haven’t changed much at all.” He considered her, knowing that if he was going to bring it up, this was the time. “So… how are things going with Reyes?” he asked casually, as if it wasn't what he’d had on his mind the entire time. Maybe she’d even believe it.

\---

She laughed and though the sound of it was a little exasperated, it was good-natured. "You know you don't have to go to the trouble of taking me to lunch to ask about him, don't you?" It had been nice to think this had just been a little time shared between friends. 

\---

He looked at her innocently. “I’m just wondering, that’s all.” She’d obviously seen right through him, but she was good company and he’d happily come to lunch with her with no ulterior motives. He just happened to have one this time.

\---

She shook her head, but smiled. "I think it's going well. I've managed to control his pain and that has done a lot for his attitude. I think he's starting to believe that I really want to help him."

\---

“Yeah? What do you think of him?” She was the only person that had spent time with him, so she was the only one that would know what he was like these days. He imagined that he’d changed so much as to become unrecognizable, but then again he’d heard enough about him and what he had been up to over the years to recognize the Reyes he used to know in this ‘Reaper’.

\---

"I think he's still in there. He's still Reyes. He's so hurt and so angry...but he's already starting to act a little more like the man I knew. I think he's starting to realize he's still Reyes too." Even if he still insisted she call him Reaper. 

\---

He hummed. “...Do you know why he’s so hurt and angry?” It was obvious he was angry. Whatever the reason, the man had been filled with rage for years, but McCree found it more striking for her to say that he was hurt. What did he have to be hurt about?

\---

"...Yes, but it isn't my place to say. You should ask him. Or Jack." It was probably no surprise that Soldier 76 would be at the center of it. Even if the others didn't know as much as she did. 

\---

She answered his next question before he could ask it. “So Jack did something to him.” It was phrased as a question, but it was more of a statement. His brow furrowed, not sure what to think. “Whatever Jack did… it’s the reason he went off the deep end?”

\---

She nodded solemnly, then sipped her tea. "But he's already changed so much, just after one procedure. He's more open to talking to me, more compliant, sometimes even gentle." She sighed. "If I can mend the rest of his physical wounds and show him...I don't know. Show him that someone still gives a shit, maybe we could have the old Reyes back."

\---

“Is that what you’re hoping for? To bring him back to this side?” It was a fanciful thought. The man had changed, regardless of what she thought she’d accomplished with him. Even if she managed a miracle, he didn’t think he would ever want anything to do with them again. 

\---

"In my wildest dreams, maybe." It wasn't even remotely realistic. "No. I just want him to have some peace and stop hunting us. He could leave Talon and all of this behind and find something that makes him happy."

\---

“The man is stubborn.” He’d always been stubborn, even back when he’d been a hero. It was what had made him a hero. He didn’t think he’d ever leave all this behind. Anymore than any of them would. “I know you won’t tell me, but is what happened-” He trailed off, trying to think of how to word it. “Nothing justifies what he’s done, but… does it?” 

\---

"He's no more stubborn than I am." She said defiantly. "No, nothing justifies what he's done. But if you knew, you might understand. You might see why neither he nor Jack are the same men we used to know."

\---

He hummed again, taking another sip of his drink. “Just promise me you’ll be careful…” She talked about the progress she’d made with him, but was she certain that it was progress? That he wasn’t convincing her that there had been progress when in reality, nothing had changed?

\---

"I promise." She was careful. Not as careful as 76 wanted her to be, but still. "I know he still wants to hurt me. But at least he hasn't tried it lately."

\---

“He doesn’t deserve you.” She was much too good, but that was why they were here, wasn’t it? She was so good, she insisted on helping a man that no one else wanted to help. That was so obviously beyond help. When it came time to pay, he took care of it and then dropped his hat back on his head. “Should be heading back soon.”

\---

She had smiled warmly, flattered he would say so even if she disagreed. He did deserve her and the second chance she was giving him. She had tried to pay her share when the bill came, but wasn't surprised when McCree covered it. "We should. Thanks for lunch, Jesse. I really needed this."

\---

“It was my pleasure.” He stood up and made his way out, walking back to his bike. The trip back would be much like the trip there, but now he had another stop to make once they got there.


	23. Chapter 23

After dropping Mercy off at her office - he insisted on walking her back - he set out to find 76. It took a little searching to find him, but eventually he made his way to the gym after receiving a tip that he’d likely be there. Sure enough, when he stepped in he saw him working up a sweat. He approached him, studying him as if to see something he’d never seen before. 

“Afternoon, Jack.”

\---

Jack was in his own little world. He was breathing hard, timing his exhales with his punches as he laid into the heavy bag. This used to be so effortless. Now he'd hardly been at an hour and his back was starting to protest. His knees were still aching from his workout the day before. He was slowing down, but he refused to accept the decline of his body and continued to push forward. He had work left to do. 

He heard his name and grabbed the punching bag to stop its swinging. He turned to see the cowboy watching him and he wiped at his sweaty brow with his forearm. "Afternoon, McCree."

\---

“You look busy - mind if we talk later?” He wasn’t going to drag him away from what he was doing, but he could at least make plans to speak with him.

\---

"I'm not busy." He was ready for a break anyway. He went to grab his towel and water bottle, lowering his mask enough to take a deep drink. "What do you want to talk about?" Probably Reyes. It's what everyone was talking about. 

\---

His eyes flicked around the room, looking for anyone close enough to eavesdrop. There were others, but they were busy with their workouts and weren’t close enough to be a concern anyway.

“I’d like to know what happened between you and Reyes.”

\---

He froze. After a beat, he snapped the lower portion of his mask back into place. "There isn't an easy answer to that. It's better we leave the past in the past."

\---

“Well now, normally I’d agree with you, but since the good doctor is determined to try to help him, I think it’s something we need to discuss.” His avoidance said a lot and he couldn’t help but wonder what on earth he could have done.

\---

"What did she say to you?" She must have said something. This didn't come out of nowhere. He started out of the gym and nodded for McCree to follow. He wasn’t about to talk about this here. 

\---

He followed after him. “Nothing. Said it wasn’t her place.” Which he respected, which is why he was here. “It was you or Reyes. I’d rather talk to you.” Between them, he was the one he trusted not to lie, though in truth, he wasn’t so sure in regards to this. Either way, the man deserved the opportunity to explain himself.

\---

That was a relief. He trusted her, as much as he could trust anyone. "I'm sure Reyes would love to talk to you about it. His version of the story, anyway." He was leading him outside. He didn’t want to talk about this and he was stalling, but he also really didn't want anyone listening in. 

\---

“He seems to think everyone knows.” He’d tried to ask him about it when it came up, but the man hadn’t believed he was clueless and before he could explain, Dr. Zieglar had interrupted them. “Thing is, I don’t know what there is to know.”

\---

“There’s a lot to know and I don’t deny my wrong-doing in it, but he’s not the innocent he likes to think he is either.” He felt better when they were outside, but not by much. He took a seat on a bench outside of the compound, slouching forward with his elbows resting on his knees. “You’re one of the only people who has asked me directly about this. I think everyone wants to know...but also have the feeling that some things are better left buried.”

\---

He knew what he meant - everyone was interested in the falling out between them, but what he’d recently learned made it sound like more than a falling out. Like there had been a more direct and dire catalyst than a simple fundamental disagreement between the two men. Everyone back then had known that they disagreed about how Overwatch was run, but this seemed like something much more than that. 

He sat down beside him, his posture the exact opposite of him - slouched back with one leg crossing over the other. “I know what he was up to back then, Jack.” He’d been his right hand man at the time. He’d disagreed with some of the things Reyes did, but he’d respected him. “What I don’t know is what would drive him bomb Overwatch, but it sounds like you do.”

\---

His head was low and he was looking down at his hands. “I knew what he was up to also, but he was my friend. There was already tension between us when he got passed up and I thought...it wasn’t that big of a deal to turn a blind eye, even if I didn’t approve of his methods.” It wasn’t answering his question, not really. But he wasn’t ready to get into it.

\---

“He did a lot for Overwatch.” They both knew he didn’t just turn a blind eye for Reyes’ sake. His methods, like them or not, garnered results. What he did, he did because it was usually the right thing to do, even if the way he went about it wasn’t ideal. That was often why it needed to be done - the ideal solution was one that wouldn’t accomplish anything or consisted of inaction entirely.

\--- 

He nodded. “But Overwatch was getting a lot of negative attention, as you know. People were starting to ask questions and the way Reyes did things was making everything worse. He didn’t care about public scrutiny. He didn’t care about the image Blackwatch was putting off.”

\---

“...So you were going to fire him?” That seemed like a stretch to him. Not that he would fire him, necessarily, but that it would drive Reyes to turning on them. He doubted that was the answer, but he was inviting him to correct him with the truth.

\---

“There was talk about it.” Talk that perhaps he should have listened to. “It wasn’t going to be enough. Firing Reyes wasn’t going to make people understand Overwatch and all the good we were doing. I had to...dissociate his behavior from what the rest of us were doing.”

\---

“What does that mean?” It didn’t surprise him that he’d wanted to renounce him, really, but he’d obviously never gotten the chance. Overwatch had exploded from the inside out and for a long time, they’d thought both men were dead. Once he’d returned, things had changed and no one had wanted to stir up the past. 

\---

“I…” He sat back then, his arms folding over his chest. “You’re not going to understand. No one would. I would have died for Overwatch. I still would. No one could understand what they would have done in my position.”

\---

“...What did you do?” He finally let his leg drop and he leaned forward, looking at him intently. Obviously whatever it was, he was still struggling with it. Or maybe he was simply struggling with saying it because he knew that whatever it was, it was wrong. Not enough to justify Reyes’ actions, but enough for him to understand, if what Angela had said was correct.

\---

“I didn’t do anything, but I was going to.” He shook his head. “I still don’t know if it would have been the right thing. He didn’t deserve whatever was going to happen, but he turned out to be a mad dog. I think we all knew he was capable of it. Even if I hadn’t been the one to make him snap…” He was so ruthless, so lethal. Maybe it would have been the right thing to do. He’d never know for sure.

\---

“Jack, stop beating around the bush.” The more he heard, the more his heart quickened. “What were you going to do to him?” He was clearly still trying to justify whatever it was even all these years later.

\---

“I was going to let him take the fall.” He finally spat it out and he hated himself all over again for saying it aloud. “I was setting it up to look like I didn’t know about his crimes. That none of us knew and he was acting outside of the organization. The public would have its villain and Overwatch could go back to the way it used to be.” He sounded as sick as he felt. “I didn’t know how I was going to live with myself when they sentenced him.”

\---

For a time, he simply stared at him. A hand lifted and he rubbed at his beard, then he looked away from him and into the distance in front of them. The silence lasted a little longer and was broken by him standing up. Without a word, he walked away. 

\---

He didn’t expect him to understand. Nobody had to make the choices he’d been faced with. He sat there alone for awhile, then eventually stood and walked off as well. He needed more fresh air.


	24. Chapter 24

When Mercy made her way into the room, it was with a little apprehension. She wanted to talk with him and she didn’t know how well it would go over. But giving him his shot had gone fairly well, so maybe this wouldn’t be too bad either. 

“Good morning.” She greeted him, bringing water to the bars of his cell as she often did. “How are you feeling today?”

\---

Reaper was sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall of his cell. There weren’t many places for him to sit and he got tired of lingering in the same spots all the time, so he occasionally took residence on the concrete. He looked up when she stepped in, but rather than get up, he remained where he was. She’d kept her distance from him lately and he didn’t think today would be any different.

The most interaction they’d had since she’d fled from him was when she came in to fuss about Morrison bothering him. Maybe the man had kept his word and told her to stop touching him. Maybe she decided to listen.

It was a shame. 

“Same as ever, doc,” he responded, his eyes falling to his feet stretched out in front of him.

\---

“I want to talk to you about something.” She said as she set his water down where he would be able to reach it. “It’s entirely optional. If it’s not something you want to pursue, we don’t need to do it.” Unlike the injection, this was something she could leave up to him.

\---

Well, that was more interesting than her visits had been the last few days. “Hit me with it.” He wasn’t sure what she might have in mind and though he had a feeling he wouldn’t want whatever it was… her massages had been nice. Maybe it was something like that.

\---

“You’ve had some time to recover and I think it would be appropriate timing for a second procedure.” One she hoped she could do on a willing patient this time. “I’ve helped with your pain management, but I think I could make you feel even better. If I can desensitize those wounds enough, I might even be able to close them in time.” He hadn’t at all been able to tolerate her early attempt at that. 

\---

He considered it briefly, but when he answered, it was abrupt and to the point. “No.” She was clearly of a mind to reverse everything that Moira had done to him, but who knew where she drew the line? Who knew what would happen to his abilities if she continued to try to restore him what he’d been before? Even if it wasn’t intentional, he would be furious if she got rid of them.

\---

“Okay.” It was disappointing, but wasn’t surprising. Maybe with time, he would reconsider the offer. For now, she wouldn’t push. Especially when he’d just so recently conceded to the injection he didn’t want. “Are you feeling up to a massage today?”

\---

His eyes finally lifted and he looked at her. “You sure you’re willing to be in here with me?” Their conversation had clearly frightened her. Even if it was understandable, he was tired of their wishy washy interactions.

\---

“As long as you want me in there, yes.” She was still afraid to be in there with him. But she’d had a little time to recover since their last unpleasant encounter and she thought maybe she had earned a bit of good will from her by not pushing the issue of a second procedure.

\---

He was encouraged by this turn. Maybe their progress hadn’t been dashed and they could pick up where they’d left off. “Then come in here.” He patted the ground beside him, inviting her in.

\---

She looked up at the camera. Soon the cell door was opening and security was on their way into the room. She stepped inside and though she hardly thought she’d be giving him a massage on the floor, she decided to take his invitation and sit on the ground next to him. 

\--- 

He pressed himself into the wall, spine straightening. He was silent, but his hand fell to the floor between them. He left it open, waiting to see if she would take it or if such contact was off the table.

\---

She looked down at the open hand and after a beat, she set her hand into his. It was nice to reconnect this way after things went so sour last time. The lecture from Jack was loud and clear in her head, but he didn’t understand. This was working.

\---

He closed his hand around hers and held it. He kept his eyes on his feet, but he was extremely aware of her and how close she was. He stroked his thumb against her and then shut his eyes, wondering what she would think of this.

\---

She leaned into him a little and her lips quirked up. He looked relaxed and that was reassuring. “Do you miss eating? Or drinking coffee? Or is it kind of nice not having to worry about that kind of thing?”

\---

It was such a simple question and for some strange reason, it resonated with him. “Yes, I miss it.” He’d always enjoyed eating and sometimes smelling food and being unable to taste it was a torture in of itself. 

\---

“I think I would miss it too. Sometimes the best part of my morning is that first sip of coffee.” She knew it was hardly deep conversation. But she was curious. “I guess it’s a hassle having to eat to keep going, but I really think I would miss it if I couldn’t.”

\---

It was convenient in its own way, but… “It’s a hassle having to kill someone to give my body what it needs.” He didn’t really mind the hassle anymore than he had eating, but it meant that he had to go on some sort of job often enough to feed that need. “I suppose I should just be happy that I don’t suck the energy from living people, or else I wouldn’t have anyone to talk to.” Actually, it would be a rather convenient means to kill people, but even he would go a little crazy if he was that isolated. It was almost a joke.

\---

“Yes, you do still need something for sustenance. Does it...taste like anything when you draw from a dead body?” She wouldn’t think so. But then, it was his ‘food’, so maybe his body was adapted to liking it.

\---

He snorted softly. “No.” After a moment, he shrugged. “It smells a little like rot, though.” Not all that different to how he smelled himself, just stronger. The bodies literally decayed in front of him, so the smell was to be expected.

\---

Her nose wrinkled a little. "That makes sense, but the smell of a nice chicken dinner sounds a lot more appetizing." The chicken was no less dead than the humans he consumed, but at least after cooking it smelled better. 

\---

“I’d kill for some pizza.” His eyes opened at that and he looked at her out of the corner of them, wondering if his wording would send her into a panic. It was a rather innocuous statement, but for him to talk about killing… It wouldn’t surprise him if it made her uncomfortable.

\---

"Maybe I can help you with that someday." She was still relaxed at his side. Even smiling faintly. "What do you want on your pizza?" He could fantasize about it in the meantime. 

\---

“Everything.” He was a bit of a meat man, but after so long without tasting anything, he’d want it to be loaded. “A lot of cheese.” He sighed as he thought about the pizza. It really was a torture. 

\---

"Everything? That's risky. People put pretty gross things on pizza." She chuckled under her breath. "But I fully support your decision on extra cheese."

\---

“Everything within reason,” he corrected, his own lips quirking a little. He looked over at her, trying to get a read on her. He squeezed her hand, just to see if she would squeeze his back.

\---

"That's a much safer request." She returned the squeeze. It was a better mood between them than the last time they spent together. "No fish or fruit nonsense."

\---

This was the most they’d spoken about anything and as meaningless as it was… It was nice. More importantly, she seemed to think so. He continued to contemplate her and eventually, he reached for her with his free hand. His fingers started at her shoulder, but slid in to brush her neck.

He knew the touch would scare her, so he kept it tentative. “Angela…” He stroked the skin softly. “I won’t hurt you.” 

\---

She shivered a little at his touch. It was scary, but it was pleasant. She met his eyes, searching for the truth in them. She didn’t really believe him, but it was a nice thought. "Why not?" What had changed?

\---

He went so far as to slide his fingers around it, hoping to replace her memories of his violence with this instead. This gentle touch. It was as close as he would come to an apology. The question was difficult even if he meant what he was saying. He was not the sort of man to open up, so for her to expect him to was asking a lot of him. 

“...You stopped staying after I scared you. I didn’t like it.”

\---

"I'm sorry I stopped coming in." But he had frightened her. Even now, she was a little nervous as he touched her neck. "I'm here now. I'll start staying more regularly with you again."

\---

He let his hand shift down, resting it on her collar so it wasn’t so threatening. “Only if you want to.” He didn’t want her to stay with him because she thought it was what he wanted. At least, he didn’t want that to be the only reason. “I’m your prisoner, you’re not mine.” 

\---

Her posture relaxed a little when his hand moved away from her neck, though she'd hardly noticed she had been tense. "I do want to. You're my patient. I think it's good for us to spend time together."

\---

He studied her and seemed disappointed by what he saw. It would take time, he just needed to muster his patience. A difficult task for him, but all he had was time. His hand fell completely so that their only contact was their interlocked fingers. He leaned against the wall once more, his eyes falling back to his feet and it was almost as if the exchange hadn’t happened. 

\---

She was a little more relaxed when the contact between them was simple. Still, she wanted to encourage it, so she leaned into him a bit more and even rested her head lightly on his shoulder. “Do you want breadsticks with your pizza?” It was an easier topic and she wanted to return to it.

\---

He was fine with the shift in topic and answered, “Yes.” If they spent the rest of their time together talking about pizza, that was fine with him. The more mindless, the better. Maybe they’d get to that massage she’d mentioned, but if not, he wasn’t worried about it. He just needed to make sure she wasn’t so scared of him.

\---

“What are your feelings on hot wings with your pizza?” She could imagine him liking hot wings. She closed her eyes, rather comfortable resting against his shoulder. 

\---

“Try on your pizza.” Maybe that was something she’d consider ‘gross’, but he had loved hot wing pizza. Really, it was hard to fuck up pizza and hot wings were not something that could make it any worse. Hot wings were great, pizza was great… Fuck he missed food.

\---

“Hmmm...I hadn’t considered that possibility.” But it did sound good to her. “If I get you able to eat again, maybe I’ll have a slice of that pizza with you.”

\---

He gave a noncommittal ‘hmph’. That was a pretty big if, especially since he wasn’t willing to let her experiment on him. It was a nice thought… but he didn’t want those wistful thoughts to break his resolve and they wouldn’t. He’d give up the opportunity to eat for the rest of his life if that was what it took to get what he wanted.

\---

“Still want that massage?” She didn’t want to rile him up if he thought she was trying to convince him to have another procedure. In a very small way, she was. But she knew the promise of pizza was not going to be enough to get him back on her operating table. 

\---

With a short nod, he let go of her and waited for her to sit up so he could stand. He slipped his shirt off and made his way to his bunk. They’d only done this a handful of times, but he was familiar with the routine already and he laid down, making himself comfortable. This, at least, would feel nice.

\---

She followed him to the cot and sat down on the mattress beside him. She always felt safest with him like this. The little bottle of oil was in her pocket and she took it out, warming it between her fingers. “If we keep this up I’ll be able to add ‘massage therapist’ to my credentials.”

\---

“May as well. It’s the best massage I’ve ever had.” He’d never been professionally massaged, but he’d had lovers rub his body a time or two. What she did was obviously different and a lot more attentive. “If you need a reference, just send them my way. I’ll scare them into accrediting you.”

\---

She laughed, the sound light and genuine. “You’re flattering me. You’d get a much better massage if you let a professional do it.” She started in on his shoulders, as she usually did, her fingers more familiar now with the layout of his muscles as well as his wounds. “But then, I’m also a little flattered that you don’t want anyone but me to massage you.”

\---

The laugh was almost a little startling. It wasn’t often he made people laugh these days - it was something that had come much easier to him when he was a different man. “Somehow I doubt that.” He liked her massages and he didn’t think anyone else would do it any better. He also doubted she was flattered.

\---

“Nonsense. There are much more talented masseuses than me. Some of them are very pretty too.” If it was his worry that some hideous lady would be coming in to put her hands all over him.

\---

“I doubt that too. At least, I doubt that they’re as pretty as you.” Internally, he cringed, even if he spoke truth. The woman was beautiful and even though he couldn’t see her while she rubbed him, the knowledge that a beautiful woman was rubbing him was still pretty pleasant. It added to the experience. 

\---

“Now you’re _trying_ to flatter me.” She chuckled. “Are you trying to charm me into giving you a longer massage?” It was hardly the first time a patient had called her pretty. But it was probably the first time a patient who wanted to kill her called her pretty.

\---

“It’s hardly flattering if it’s the truth.” He continued to cringe. Luckily, his face was buried in his arms and she would have no idea how ridiculous he felt saying these things. “I’m not charming, but if you want to massage me longer, I won’t complain.”

\---

“You’re more charming than you realize.” Maybe not these days, but he used to be. She still refused to believe that man was gone. “For that, you’ll get a few extra minutes.” She knew he didn’t mean his flirting. But it was entertaining, innocent as it was, and it was better than threats.

\---

He made a skeptical sound, but left it at that. He was more than content for a few extra minutes of her hands working his muscles. He didn’t need it as badly as he had in the beginning, but it was so nice that he wanted it just as much as he had then.

\---

"So now I know you miss pizza. Why don't you tell me what you miss drinking?" It was a safe topic. She wanted to keep him talking, hoping to keep an idea of what sort of mood he was in. 

\---

“I don’t miss drinking.” Yea, he’d prefer something other than water from time to time, but that he could drink at all made it harder to miss. “I still drink alcohol sometimes.” The effect it had on him wasn’t as strong as before, but it still gave him a buzz and that was enough to make the nausea worth it. 

\---

"Do you? Maybe we could have a glass of wine together some evening." She hardly pictured him as a wine drinker and the mental image amused her. 

\---

“No. I need alcohol that doesn’t have anything added to it.” He couldn’t just drink a beer. He needed something purer. Like a shot of vodka. “Wine would make me miserable.”

\---

"Interesting." But it made sense. Maybe the sugar wouldn't agree with him. "Are you a whiskey man?" She could picture him with whiskey far better than she could a glass of wine. 

\---

“I like whiskey,” he agreed - he’d have preferred that to wine even when he could drink both. His mind briefly went to the many times that he and McCree would sit around, smoking and drinking together. They’d consumed a lot of whiskey together over the years.

\---

"Then maybe you and I could enjoy a glass of whiskey together." It wasn't as much to her taste as wine, but she didn’t hate it. She didn't imagine Jack would be thrilled about her having a drink with their prisoner, but it wasn’t his call to make. 

\---

“Or two.” If he was going to drink… he wanted to drink. He wanted to forget where he was, even if only for a little while. “Or you could just leave me the entire bottle.” That would never happen. He wasn’t allowed sheets. They weren’t going to hand over a glass bottle.

\---

"I think a glass or two will be enough. What sort of doctor would I be if I let you drink yourself into a coma?" She was working her fingers down along his spine, glad that her massages seemed to have relaxed the muscles significantly since the first time she rubbed his back. 

\---

“A kind one.” She was already plenty kind to him. The way her fingers were working him was an immediate indication of this. Still, it would be kind for her to let him drink himself into a coma.

\---

"Two glasses, that's as far as my kindness reaches. Everything in moderation." She found a knot in his lower back beside his spine and began to knead it attentively. 

\---

He groaned, not as keen on arguing when she massaged a spot like that. It felt good and it was simpler to focus on the way it felt. It would be nice if her hands would wander elsewhere. If she’d rub his hands again. His arms. His legs… his cock. The thought made him shiver. 

He thought of Widow’s fingers on him. She would touch him where he wanted her to. He wished it was her. Even if it meant her fingers clawing into his wounds, she’d stroke his cock too.

\---

She felt him shiver and she thought she must have hit the knot just right. She put more pressure on that spot, wanting to work the knot out before moving on to a different spot. "Does that feel good?" She asked softly, knowing that she was probably on the line between pleasure and pain pressing as hard as she was. 

\---

He groaned again, deeper. He nodded into his arms, but he was barely paying attention to what she was doing. He was thinking about Widowmaker and how pliant she was. How aggressive she was when he asked her to dominate him. Her body was cold, but welcoming.

\---

It was no surprise he could tolerate her work in that spot. He was one of the toughest men she knew. Eventually the muscle yielded to her and she worked it in longer, slower strokes. 

\---

It really was good and he realized with a flustered flush that he was working himself up. Really, she was working him up, but his erotic thoughts were not helping. He found himself glad that he was on his stomach, even if it frustrated him that he couldn’t do anything about it.

\---

She was oblivious of his need, working lower still until she was right at his hips. She rubbed along the muscles there, taking her time to do a thorough job of it. He'd been unhappy that she hadn't been in to spend time with him lately and she wanted to make up for it. 

\---

Even though it was extremely nice, there was tension growing in him. He hadn’t touched himself in weeks and that was a long time for him. His neglected needs were hitting him in full force and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to stop himself when she left. There were cameras… but so long as he kept his back to them, did he really care?

\---

She could feel him starting to tense beneath her fingers and she eased her touches so they were more caresses than a deep massage. "Is it starting to hurt?" She asked softly.

\---

His breathing was heavier. “No.” Part of him wanted her to stop so he could take over, but her touch was better than no touch at all. His hips shifted slightly, as if adjusting, but really he was risking a slight grind into the mattress.

\---

"Okay. Just tell me if it's too much." She added more pressure again. It probably was hurting, she didn't know why else he'd be tensing and shifting. But he didn’t want her to stop so she wouldn’t yet. 

\---

He knew he had to keep himself in control. If she found out the effect she was having on him, she’d probably never massage him again. He wasn’t willing to lose this, so though he shifted here and there, rubbing himself the only way he could, the only real tell was his breathing. It was hard to think about it when he was so intent on not being obvious in any other way.

\---

He seemed uncomfortable to her, but she still kept going until she felt he'd been thoroughly rubbed down. "Is there anywhere else you need massaged?" She asked when she gave him the little pat to let him know she was wrapping up. 

\---

In spite of the situation, he laughed to himself. He wished he could tell her what he needed massaged, but since there was absolutely no shot of her actually rubbing it, he shook his head. “Thanks, doc.” The words slipped from his mouth before he thought about it, but was waiting impatiently for her to leave and he didn’t realize himself.

\---

"You're welcome. I won't be such a stranger. I'll spend time with you tomorrow." She assured him as she rose from his cot, starting out. He usually stayed on the bed when she finished and she expected he would do the same now. 

\---

He was normally completely relaxed by now, but this time he was worked up and waiting for the door to close. He was aware that she might be informed if he gave in to his needs, but… he would wrestle with that once he was alone. 

\---

"See you soon." She said when she was on the other side of the bars. She'd check on him that evening and hopefully he'd be in good humor that evening. Mercy and her security left him alone and Reaper would have only the cameras for company. 

\---

For a while he simply laid there, telling himself that he couldn’t. If he wanted to do this, he could later. Not immediately after she had been rubbing his body. Then if they said anything to her, it wouldn’t be so… obvious. He was throbbing, however, and he started to grind himself into the mattress again. It wasn’t long before he caved, rolling to his side so he was facing the wall. He slipped himself out of his pants and started to stroke himself. 

Fuck whoever was watching.


	25. Chapter 25

When the cowboy stepped into the room this time, there was a different air about him. Still somber, but different. He saw Reyes roll his eyes as he took a seat, but he supposed that wasn’t surprising. He forewent his cigar this time and even went so far as to take off his hat, tossing it onto the doctor’s table. 

He broke the silence this time. “I talked to Jack.”

“And I care?”

He sighed, leaning forward, resting his arms on his knees. “Reyes-” He stopped. “Gabriel, I didn’t know. No one knows.” 

There was a beat and then, “I still fail to see why I care.” 

McCree studied him. “I don’t see why you’re so angry at me.” At any of them, but him specifically. “I would have never allowed him to do that.” If Morrison had tried to go through with it, McCree would have been right there to argue against it. “You know that, or you should.” 

The silence he was greeted with made him sigh. “Why do you want everyone dead? Overwatch didn’t do this to you. Jack did. Jack is not Overwatch.” He struggled to find fondness for the organization himself - he was not committed to it the way he had been to Blackwatch. He’d only recently returned to them at all and he only hung around when he didn’t have his own things to do. 

“Overwatch _was_ Jack’s and until there is nothing left of it, I will continue to tear it to shreds.” Overwatch should have been his and if it had been, none of this would have ever happened. Overwatch would still be great and groups like Talon would have been crushed. They would no longer be a threat because he would have done what needed to be done to get rid of them. 

“So like that, you want me dead? Genji? Angela?” He fixed his eyes intently on him. “What about O’Deorain? She was a part of it as much as the rest of us, but now she’s with you at Talon. Why isn’t she dead?”

“She saved me.” After the explosion, she’d saved his life. She’d put him back together and even if it had turned him this… thing, she had saved him. It helped that she had no loyalty to Overwatch and looked down on them as much as he did, even if for different reasons. 

“So does that mean Angela’s off your list? She’s trying to save you.” He heard the soft scoff and he stood, moving to the bars. “Gabriel-”

“That is not my name!” Reaper shouted, so sick and tired of them refusing to call him by his name.

“Gabe, listen. I’m sorry.” He looked at him earnestly, trying to get through to him. “You were like a brother to me-”

“So. Was. He.” There was so much anger in his words, McCree knew that he’d stepped wrong. That even if he meant it, saying it was not going to convince him of anything. He had been betrayed by someone who he had considered a brother, so it meant nothing to him.

He looked down for a time and then, with a sigh, he stepped back and grabbed his hat. He ran his fingers over the brim of it, brushing it off, before dropping it on his head. “I hope she’s right. I hope you’re in there somewhere. I miss my friend.” With a tip of his head, he turned and made his way out. 

Maybe if the doctor made more progress with him, he’d try to stop by. Until then, he’d give the man his space. 


	26. Chapter 26

Widowmaker’s independent decision to try to free Reaper had not gone over well with Talon. She had been punished - confined to her room and denied any work for awhile and her restrictions hadn’t been released until she’d been thoroughly questioned about what had driven her to do such a thing. The answer was simple and seemed to satisfy them. He was her partner. They worked most effectively together and it would have benefitted Talon if she could have retrieved him. Just the same, she had been clearly warned not to make any such moves on her own again. 

When she was given assignments again, she’d hoped to be involved in the intel being gathered from Overwatch on what they were doing with Reaper. It wasn’t exactly her area of expertise, but she had extensive training in covert operations. Instead, she was doing more mundane missions. She didn’t like working with anyone else, even if the jobs had gone fairly well.

Another meeting had gone by and there were no new plans to extract Reaper from Overwatch. Moira had voiced her displeasure at this, but little had been said about the information they had, other than their certainty that he was still alive. She left the meeting...frustrated. She hadn’t known she could still get frustrated, but she was almost sure that was it was. Their inaction was enough to frustrate someone who shouldn’t even be capable of the feeling.

As more days passed, this frustration was what brought her to Sombra’s door. She hadn’t thought she’d ever had a reason to look to the girl who was blackmailing her for help. But she was deeply involved in the information gathering on Overwatch. She had to know something.

\---

Sombra was lounging on her bed, several holographic screens hovering above her. She was quickly flicking her fingers through the air, the screens changing at lightning speed, until she came to what she was looking for. With a smile, she pressed an immaterial button and was satisfied when the speakers situated in her room started to play the song she’d had stuck in her head the entire day. 

She was only thirty seconds or so into the song when the sound of someone at the door made her eyes roll. She hopped off her bed, shaking her hips and twirling her wrists as she made her way over to it. Only when she reached it did she pause the music to pull it open. It wasn’t often she was sought out in person. Usually if she was needed, she was messaged. She was always available digitally and it was by far the most reliable way to reach her. 

When she saw who was on the other side, her brows raised. ‘Well, if it isn’t la pequeña araña.” She offered her a smile that bordered condescending, but oddly enough, had some genuine warmth to it. 

\---

“I need to talk to you. Do you want to go outside or may I come in?” She was sure she was in for a lot of mocking, but she didn’t care. She just wanted to get the information she needed and go. There was something a little uneasy in her posture and it wasn’t like her at all.

\---

She had a feeling she knew what this was about. “Come in, come in.” She stood back to let her step inside. Her room was the complete opposite of Widowmaker’s. It was clearly hers at a glance. Most of the room was dominated by her desk, which housed more monitors than any one person could ever need, but she had insisted on every single one of them. Beside it there a couple of server racks and held more hardware than there was space for; the extras were balanced creatively, but securely on top. 

She had a couple of other smaller desks lining the walls and covered in different electrical components. The entire room had a dark ambiance, primarily lit by a low magenta glow coming from various points in the room, not to mention the constellation of LEDs flickering from the equipment sprinkled about. The only sign of personality apart from all of the computers was a couple of posters that were plastered to the wall. If it wasn’t for the bed to one side, it wouldn’t even look like a bedroom at all. 

“Let me guess: you miss your boy toy.” She dropped down into her seat at her desk, crossing one leg over the other and letting the foot on the floor sway her chair.

\---

She stepped inside, but didn’t look like she had any intention of making herself comfortable. It was no surprise Sombra knew why she was here but she wasn’t going to entertain her mention of boy toys. “Do you know what they’re doing with Reaper?” If anyone knew what was going on inside that compound, it was her.

\---

“Imprisoning him, obviously.” She knew that wasn’t what she was asking, but it was fun trying to frustrate her. To try to draw out any emotion from her, really. It was obvious she still had them, the way she was with Reaper. The way she’d gone in all alone to try to save him. It was almost as sweet as it was stupid. 

\---

It seemed she was going to have to be more direct. She folded her arms in front of her and frowned, her weight shifting slightly between her feet. “Do you know if they’re torturing him?” They almost certainly were. Breaking bones and pulling teeth to get all the information out of him they could.

\---

“Why do you care if they are?” She was curious what she would say. If she would admit that she cared about him or if she would try to come up with a transparent excuse. She continued to sway back and forth, her eyes pinned on her.

\---

“He’s my partner. I want him back in one piece.” She shouldn’t care, she knew. It wasn’t like she wasn’t compatible with other people for missions. But she did. She wanted _him_ back. 

\---

She hummed. “I suppose it would be hard to have fun if he’s missing bits and pieces, hmm?” She gave her a little smirk. It was easy for her to talk about it because she did know the answer. She knew that he was not being tortured, so it wasn’t really in poor taste to talk about him having his verga lopped off. 

\---

She didn’t really think Sombra would smirk about Reaper being maimed if that had really happened, but she hadn’t thought this girl would blackmail them either. “Have they hurt him?” Maybe she was wasting her time. Maybe she wasn’t going to get any answers here, no more than she was getting them in these meetings.

\---

She considered her a little longer, before twisting suddenly in her chair. “We’re still setting up surveillance, if it were easy they’d have had it ages ago.” They had a lot more information than Overwatch thought, but there was a lot more that was hard to access. She pulled up her main screen and started plugging away. “What we have is limited, but it seems they’re experimenting on him. We think they’re more interested in his abilities than in him… but that isn’t to say they aren’t also trying to get information out of him.” When she finally had what she wanted, she drew it up. It was a ten second clip of what appeared to be a cell and inside it was Reaper - though it looked nothing like him without his usual wardrobe - sitting listlessly on a bare mattress. 

“That’s all I could get. It was a test to see if their security system would detect my trojan and it did. I’m working on it.”

\---

She moved in closer to see the screen and her breath caught when she saw a glimpse of him. He looked so strange in the clothes he’d been given, but it was him. He looked miserable, but unharmed. That didn’t mean much. She’d seen for herself how fast he could heal. They could have done all sorts of horrible things to him and it would leave no evidence behind. “Do you know where that cell is inside the compound?” If she knew exactly where to find him...no, it would be insane to try it again on her own.

\---

She turned towards her. “You really think you can rescue him on your own?” She shook her head, “Leave it alone, flaca, or they _are_ going to torture that little boyfriend of yours.” If Talon seemed to be gaining ground on them or trying to infiltrate them, they might turn to it in an attempt to take whatever advantage they could. “We’ll get him or… well…” She trailed off, unsure if she should say what they’d learned.

\---

Widow met her gaze, her usually stoic expression hard to read. “No, I won’t go back in alone.” It wasn’t going to accomplish anything for either her or Reaper. But the inaction was frustrating. “I don’t want to think Talon will leave him in there to rot, but I don’t know why they haven’t made a move.”

\---

“Es arriesgado. There’s a reason Talon’s never infiltrated them.” At least beyond the lower ranks. The outskirts. Overwatch was powerful, even following it’s fall from grace. But she was confident they were no match for her and she would find a way in. Once that had that, it would only take a little time for them to come up with a solution. 

“Gabe isn’t going to rot.” Either they would find a way to free him, or he would take care of it himself. The only issue was if they couldn’t get in quickly enough, he might act again. Then it would be too late.

\---

“...Okay.” She nodded, trying to let the words reassure her. She didn’t feel good about it at all. But at least she saw him for a moment and he looked alright. “Thank you for showing me.” It was more than she’d expected when she came here to talk to her.

\---

“Favor for a favor,” she purred, thinking this meant that Widowmaker was in her debt once more. She swayed in her chair for a moment longer, then hopped to her feet. “Vamonos, we’re going to get you a cup of champurrado.” She had no idea what the woman’s plans were, but it seemed she was hijacking them.

\---

She was confused, but she followed after the girl. “And what favor would you like for this?” She asked warily. She hadn’t asked anything yet for her blackmail. She didn’t want to be indebted to her even further.

\---

She shrugged carelessly. “Haven’t thought about it.” She strolled along, leading her through the halls and all the way to the garage. It seemed that what she had in mind was not on the premises. 

\---

Of course she would save it for later. She was sure she would owe her another favor for whatever they were about to do as well. “What is champurrado?” The word sounded quite different with her accent. 

\---

“Like hot chocolate, but with soul.” She walked them to her car and hopped in, expecting Widowmaker to drop in next to her. She started the car and busied herself with getting some music up and running. She still wanted to listen to her song, so the sniper would have to be subject to it as well. 

\---

“Hmmm...I do like chocolate.” It was worth trying. She got into the car, smoothing her dress once she was settled in her seat. She pulled a cigarette from her purse, but didn’t light it. She’d smoke it on the walk in to wherever it was they were going.

\---

Once the song was playing, she pulled out and peeled out of the garage. She was rather into the music, singing and swaying in her seat. The volume was likely a little too loud, but that was simply part of the experience for her. As her speakers pounded, she occasionally peeked at Widow to see if it had any effect on her. Other than annoyance.

\---

It was too loud, but she didn’t really mind. She even nodded a little to the beat. She never listened to music of her own volition anymore, but the dancer in her still responded to it. One more thing Talon had failed to kill in her. It at least filled the silence and diminished the need for unnecessary talk on the way.

\---

She saw the movement and it amused her, as did all her shows of personality. They really needed to work harder if they wanted to wipe her out. Sombra wouldn’t complain; they were the things that made her a lot more interesting. It was a short drive to the hole in the wall restaurant that was one of the only places in the city that served authentic Mexican food. She parked the car in the tiny, unmaintained parking lot and led the way inside.

The inside was as unassuming as the outside. The tables and chairs did not match, the tile floor chipped and worn, though it looked like it was cleaned meticulously. The decor was decades too old and over the counter, the menu consisted of faded plastic pictures of the dishes they served. 

Sombra had been here enough that she already knew what she wanted. She stepped up and ordered a couple cups of champurrada for both of them, as well as some sweet tamales to go with it. She paid and when the plastic tray was set in front of her, she picked it up and took a seat at one of the tables away from the windows - a habit she had to always avoid surveillance when she could. 

\--- 

Widowmaker had enjoyed as much of her cigarette on the walk in, stamping it out with her heel just before they stepped inside. She wasn’t exactly impressed with the look of the place, but it did smell good. She followed her to the seat and wasted no time taking a little sip of the champurrada. “Delicieux. You have good taste in drinks.”

\---

She took a sip of it herself and sighed in contentment. “Mm, mi mamá liked to make it for me whenever I was down.” Her eyes lifted to the woman across from her and she offered her a small smile.

\---

“This probably isn’t quite as good as your mother’s.” She held both hands around the cup, letting it warm her palms. “Everything tastes better when it’s made by ta maman.”

\---

“No, but it’s not bad.” She plucked up a tamale and took a bite. “As close as I can get.” She was curious how much she remembered her mother… if it meant anything to her. She had to assume it did. It was just buried, like everything else. 

\---

She took up a tamale and studied it. She’d eaten them before, but never a sweet one and the smell was a little different. She took a bite and gave a little hum of approval. Not as good as the drink, but still good. 

\---

She was content to eat and drink without forcing conversation. She’d brought her out here because it seemed she needed something like this. A drink to warm her up from the inside out, though she knew the warmth wouldn’t last long. It was more of a metaphorical thing, anyway. 

\---

The silence was surprisingly comfortable. A little like it was with Reaper. She didn’t trust Sombra nearly as much, but she had done her a big favor that day. She could have turned her away right at the door. “Merci.” She said softly before she finished her drink, but didn’t specify just what she was thanking her for.

\---

“De nada.” She finished off her share of the tamales and sat back in her seat. “...Maybe some time I can come look at your closet. You have some style.” Not her style, so to speak, but definitely a sophisticated, if not somewhat slutty style.

\---

“If you like.” She was surprised she’d be interested in such a thing. No one had ever taken interest in her closet. Except, of course, for the doctors who worried about her getting too invested in anything at all. “My wardrobe is...extensive.” 

\---

“I noticed.” It was almost as if the woman never wore the same thing twice. She had enough that she was able to spread it out and it seemed like everything was new. “Why do you like clothes so much?” For someone else, it might be a strange question. A lot of women liked clothes and most people collected _something_ , but that didn’t really make sense for someone like her.

\---

“I...don’t know. I like to look nice.” It didn’t make her happy, per se. Nothing could. But it was what she liked. “They’ve tried to alter that, but it never works. It’s been considered a harmless preference I still have from before I was changed.”

\---

Interesting. “You like being looked at,” she presumed, taking it a step further. If she liked to look nice, it was because she liked to be looked at. Why else would she concern herself with it? Without giving her a chance to confirm or deny, she changed the subject. Slightly. “Is Gabe the first?” She was the sort of woman that could have any man… so was Reaper the first man she’d had since she’d changed? 

\---

She shrugged. It was part of it, certainly, but she liked to look good even if she was spending the day alone. Her vanity was as much for her as for anyone else. The question surprised her a little, but maybe it shouldn’t. It was the blackmail she had on her, after all. “Yes.”

\---

She studied her, as if looking for lies. She didn’t trust her to tell her the truth, considering she was blackmailing her for having a relationship with a man. It would be sort of stupid to give her further ammunition. She couldn’t sense anything, though, so she decided it could be true. “Why him?” She’d meant what she said in the hall. She thought she would have better taste. 

\---

“He asked me to because he trusts me.” She didn’t need more details about what he asked her to do specifically. She might already know from her surveillance anyway. “I didn’t think I could still like it.”

\---

“He asked you to because he thinks you’re sexy,” she laughed, the idea of Widowmaker fucking Reaper as a favor was hilarious to her. She wished she could have been a fly on the wall for that conversation. How sad. It seemed to have worked out for him though. She liked it and the two of them had been all over each other before his ambush.

\---

“I’m far from the only sexy woman he works with.” She looked down into her cup with a frown, swirling the dregs of chocolate left at the bottom. She wanted to get him back. 

\---

“True, but you are the only sexy woman that is incapable of being repulsed by him.” She noted her frown and found it sort of sweet. “You really like him, don’t you?” Sombra did not see the appeal, but… the two of them clearly had some sort of understanding. Even if it banked on Widowmaker having minimal emotions, it seemed he was bringing something out of her. Somehow. 

\---

For a long moment, it seemed like she wasn't going to answer. It felt dangerous to answer, but Sombra had already seen so much and her irrational attempt at rescuing him alone was answer enough. "...Yes. I want him back." 

\---

She wondered if Reaper _liked_ her or if his emotions were more pragmatic. He didn’t seem like the sort of man to fall for a partner, but… like she’d said, Widowmaker was probably the only woman that could stand him. She wondered if Widowmaker cared how he felt either way. She seemed to at least have the good sense not to try to stir up too much too quickly, because she kept her wonderings to herself. 

“Lucky for you, Sombra is on the case.” 

\---

At that, she looked up to her. Her lips quirked up slightly. "Lucky me. If anyone can help me get him out, c'est toi."

\---

She gave her a little smirk, setting her cup down. “So come on then! What _does_ he look like beneath all that armor?” Beneath the mask, specifically. She knew what he looked like before from her extensive research on him, but clearly he had something to hide because he never took the thing off… except to rail his girlfriend over there. She got up to take the tray over to where they were meant to drop off their dirty dishes.

\---

She stood and went to wait for her by the door. "I'm sure you have video of him without it." She doubted there was much of any of them she hadn't seen through Talon’s cameras. "He looks like he shouldn't have survived."

\---

“You would think.” She hadn’t found any. The answer was honest and not nearly as descriptive as she’d hoped, but it still told her a lot. She hummed and made her way out to the car. This time when she turned on the music, she lowered the volume considerably. “Maybe that’s why he has a stick stuck up his culo all the time.”

\---

"A small part of it, maybe." Losing his handsome features probably contributed to his foul attitude, but not by much. She leaned back in the passenger seat, feeling oddly comfortable with her. Maybe it was nice to have a conversation with someone once in awhile. 

\---

“Oh no, I think he likes the monster schtick. The whole stalks in the shadows and never takes off his mask thing?” She rolled her eyes, as if she found it silly. “He wants to be mad at the world.” What happened to him simply gave him the excuse to. 

\---

"He has the right to be mad at the world." She probably would be too, if she could. She frowned, finding herself wondering again what Overwatch might be doing to him. What new reasons they were giving him to be mad at the world. 

\---

“Don’t we all.” Her voice was a little more dire at that, but she was back to smiling a second later. “I love this song!” She turned the volume back up as the tracks switched and a new one started to play. The drive back ended up being much like the drive there. 


	27. Chapter 27

It had been a long day and Mercy decided it was time to keep her word. She would have a drink with Reaper. Her request for a glass had been frowned upon, so she carried paper cups into the room with her, a bottle of whiskey tucked under her arm. “Good evening, Gabriel. Are you up for having a drink with me?” If not, she’d just have one on her own in her room.

\---

He looked up from where he was sitting, bored out of his skull. He perked up to see her - she was the only entertainment he had these days. They wouldn’t bring him anything to keep him occupied, so she was pretty much the only thing he had to look forward to. When she saw what she had, he perked even more. 

“Sure, doc.” He was curious if she was going to come in here with him or if she simply was going to sit on the other side of the bars and pass his share through them.

\---

She poured a hearty drink for him into the one the cups, then offered it to him through the bars. “This is the good stuff. Very smooth. I think you’ll like it.” She’d prefer hers with a little soda, but since he couldn’t have anything added to his alcohol, she would drink it straight with him.

\---

That was a little disappointing, but he’d take it. He stood and made his way over, taking the cup from her. He didn’t hesitate to tug off his mask to take a sip and he sighed. Since there was nowhere for him to settle comfortably, he simply sat down beside the bars, leaning into them. 

\---

She poured one for herself, then took a seat in her chair. "I'll come in with you for our second cup." When she wouldn’t have to come back out to refill. She took a sip and nodded. "Very good stuff."

\---

“Not too bad,” he agreed, his eyes on the amber liquid. It’d been a while since he’d had a drink, since it did make him feel sick. If ever he needed a drink, it was now.

\---

"Are you feeling a little better since your last massage? Or are you sore?" He'd been so tense when she finished last time. It was hard to say if she'd left him relaxed or aching. 

\---

His stilled and his eyes lifted. She hadn’t been awkward around him since that had happened, so he didn’t think she knew. In fact, the fact that she was asking about it at all suggested that she didn’t know. So that was nice. “I’m well.”

\---

"Good. I can give you another whenever you like." The better he felt, the more cooperative he would likely be. The more he might be willing to let her do another procedure. She took another, deeper drink.

\---

She definitely didn’t know. He took another drink himself, then twisted himself so his back was to her. Not because he didn’t want to see her, simply because it was the most comfortable way to sit. “Surprised Morrison hasn’t tried harder to stop you.” He hadn’t really talked about him since the day after he’d harassed him, but it really seemed the man had no say in anything, which was satisfying.

\---

"I think he's learning that he can't, but he still tries. I'm sure he'll tell me all about his opinions on having a drink in there with you when word gets to him." But she didn’t care. She was connecting with him, she knew she was. 

\---

“Good. Fuck him.” He took another drink, as if it were a toast. He doubted she would toast to that, but it was more for himself anyway. The only power he had over him was to be a thorn in his side and it pleased him that he was so pissy about the things Mercy did with him. 

\---

She didn't exactly toast, but she did chuckle and drank when he did. It was warming her stomach in a pleasant way that the wine she'd suggested couldn't have done. "Nothing that happens in my medical ward is his concern."

\---

He turned his head to look at her, his lips quirking. “He’d be all for you fucking with my head.” The fact that he was on her ass about him was more proof that she was genuinely trying to help him. There had been a lot of signs, but each and every one of them had been dismissed until recently. 

\---

"Probably so." A lot of people would probably support that. Making him their personal Widowmaker with no feelings of his own. "But that isn’t how I do things. I'd rather give you a drink."

\---

He snorted softly, but sipped it. “Should’ve known,” he mumbled to himself, trying to think about how he could convince her to give him a third cup. If he was going to get as drunk as he’d like to be, he’d need it. 

\---

"Ready for a refill?" She asked as she lifted the bottle to top off her cup. She didn't want two full glasses. Even with security in the room, she didn't want to be in there with him if her reflexes and judgment were too hindered. 

\---

At her prompting, he pounded back the rest of what was left and twisted to offer her the cup through the bars. Already he was feeling a bit ill, but the buzz that came with it was worth it. He was warming from the inside out.

\---

Mercy stood and refilled the cup he offered, nearly all the way up to the brim. He could only have two, but they were two generous drinks. Security knew their cue and were heading inside the room when the cell door opened. Angela came inside and eased herself to sit beside him against the bars, setting her paper cup at her side. 

\---

When he saw what she had for him, he was surprised by the generous portion. It was even more than the last and he took it from her and started in on it without hesitation. “You still don’t believe me,” he pointed out, once he came up for air.

\---

"About what?" She asked, leaning back against the bars. She was tired and she looked it. The first cup of whiskey had given her cheeks a bit of a warm flush. 

\---

“That I won’t hurt you.” He looked at her simply, giving no indication of how he felt about that. He was simply stating the truth. She didn’t believe him and she’d probably never fully believe him. 

\---

"This is an exercise in trust. You could be a very violent drunk for all I know, but I still want to sit and have a drink with you." It would be smarter if she stayed entirely sober. But she needed to make herself a little vulnerable if she wanted him to trust her as well. 

\---

“That’s why you left the bottle out there _and_ why those guys are standing there with guns.” He chuckled to himself, stretching his legs out in front of him and taking in a slow breath.

\---

"Rules are rules. I think I have to work a little harder to convince security that I can be in here without them." She wasn’t particularly ready for that either, but he didn’t need to know that. 

\---

“Mhm.” She was lying, but that was to be expected. She wanted him to trust her, so she was telling him what she thought he wanted to hear. He was doing the same thing, so whatever. 

\---

"I don't think you want to hurt me." Not right now. Maybe not until he was due for another injection. She lifted her cup and took a sip. It was so strong, but pleasant. 

\---

“Mhm,” he repeated, following it with a deep drink. “This is really good.” It was setting in more and more and though he wasn’t where he wanted to be, it was still a pretty good place to be. 

\---

"It is. I haven't had a stiff drink in awhile." She was due for one. She had a long day in the operating room and she rolled her shoulders a little where she sat to loosen the muscles. 

\---

He noticed the movement out of the corner of his eye and it took an embarrassingly long time for it to hit him. What she was doing and what he could do, if she’d let him. “Back sore?” he prompted, looking over at her with lifted brows.

\---

"Hmm?" She hadn't been all that conscious of what she was doing and she chuckled when she noticed. "Oh, yes, I'm a little sore. Surgery days do that to me."

\---

He smirked, pleased that he was correct. “Come here.” She was right next to him, but he parted his legs and patted the space between them, suggesting she take up residence there. “The least I can do is return the favor.”

\---

She smirked a little. "I've massaged patients, but never let them massage me." It was probably a terrible idea, but they were building trust. She took one more drink, then slipped out of her lab coat. He'd have an easier time rubbing her shoulders through only the tank top she wore beneath the coat. Against her better judgment, she turned her back to him and settled between his thighs. 

\---

He’d half-thought she wouldn’t, so when she settled in front of him, he sat up straighter. He took another deep drink and then set his cup aside as well. “I won’t be as good as you are.” Even so, he set his hands on her shoulders and started to rub them. It wasn’t his first time noticing her scent, but while she was so close to him, he was taking it in with every breath. He didn’t know what it was - women always smelled like something, didn’t they? - but it was nice.

\---

Mercy wore no perfumes so she wouldn’t bother her nauseous patients, but she did have the very clean scent of a woman who's hygiene was of the utmost importance. She sighed softly as he got to work. "You have strong hands…"

\---

He appreciated the compliment. Every man liked to hear that they were strong and he was, in fact, pretty fucking strong. He’d been genetically engineered into a super soldier, so his hands were capable of a lot of things that most were not. It was why she had a right to fear him even when he had nothing else to hurt her with. “Maybe this is my calling.”

\---

“It might be. That feels really nice.” It did, especially after how long she’d been on her feet that day. She closed her eyes, knowing he could hurt her very easily right now, but genuinely believing that he didn’t want to. He probably had his own motives for doing her this favor, but he didn’t mean to hurt her.

\---

She was always so thorough with him, so he took his time. He worked her shoulders for quite a while, adjusting what he was doing to what she seemed to like the most. Slowly, he moved his hands lower, rubbing her shoulder blades and the tender spots beside her spine. 

\---

The alcohol made her a little less self conscious about the groan he won from her. She’d really needed this. Maybe he had missed his calling. She was relaxing more and more under the work of his fingers, finding it a pleasant combination with the warmth of the whiskey in her stomach.

\---

It was… a little intense. The groan was especially something. As his hands worked their way lower on her back, he wasn’t just rubbing, but stroking her skin above her tank top. He was hyperaware of her and, eventually, with a lick of his lips, he slid his hands to her sides. Stroking them briefly, before returning to her lower back to rub. 

\---

She wasn’t wary of his hands straying a little. The massage therapists that worked on her from time to time typically rubbed her sides while they treated the muscles in her back. She opened her eyes only long enough to locate her cup, closing them again once she had it to her lips to take another drink. This was nice.

\---

He was not only aware of her, but of his own breathing. He had to actively keep it even. He took his time, so that each time his hands strayed to her sides, she wouldn’t think much of it. Each time, he was building up the courage for them to wander a little more. Eventually, he fingers found her stomach and he stroked it too.

\---

That was a little more unusual, but fairly innocent, at least. She moved a hand to settle over the one that touched her stomach, not pushing him away but simply touching him. He had to be lonely. It was probably why he tried to touch her in some way every time she was in with him.

\---

He stilled briefly when she touched him, but when she didn’t try to stop him, he used some of that strength she’d spoken of to pull her back against him. So she was resting against his chest. His heart was pounding as he continued to run the tips of his fingers over her stomach, sometimes wandering up her sternum, sometimes wandering down around her hip bones.

\---

Her heart was starting to pound too and the heat in her cheeks wasn’t just from the whiskey. This didn’t feel safe. This felt a little bit like being in the embrace of a bear and hoping his claws didn’t sink in to tear her to shreds. But she laid back against him, her hands settling over both of his arms, trying to encourage him to hold her rather than let his hands wander.

\---

He received an entirely different message from her touch and even though he knew this might spiral into disaster, he was encouraged. Their backs were to the cameras and to the men and with that in mind, he let one of his hands slide down between her thighs. The touch was light and nearly non-existent, but he was waiting to see what her reaction would be.

\---

She wasn’t expecting that and she shivered. It had been awhile since she’d been touched. Her fingers tightened over his arms, this time more deliberate in her attempt to still him to simply hold her. She needed to be careful. If she enraged him while they were this close, it could be her last mistake. “That would feel nice, but we need to trust each other first, Gabriel.”

\---

“Angela…” His hand was still there, so he started to rub her slowly, hoping that it would be enough for her to change her mind. He was being very tentative in the way he was touching her, but steady. He wanted this and he didn’t think he would have another shot after this.

\---

Her fingers tightened on his arms even more, both out of nerves and a little wave of arousal. It really did feel nice and that was not helping her think clearly. She didn’t know what he might do if she pushed him away, especially knowing his blood must be a little heated at this point. 

\---

When she didn’t protest him any further, he became more sure in his touches. His fingers worked firm circles through her pants and though he fully intended on sliding his hand into them, he wanted to work up to that. He was approaching this with as much patience as he had the rest of it. His free hand slid up and he started to rub her shoulder again, to give the spectators something to see. So it wouldn’t be so obvious what was occupying his other hand.

\---

The hand on her shoulder was somewhat of a nice distraction from what was going on below. It still felt good, but it was much safer than the touch of his other hand. She usually took care of her own needs but the feel of a man’s fingers working her was a nice change, if she was honest with herself. Maybe the danger of it was warming her a little too and she sighed softly under her breath.

\---

The feel of her giving in was… the best feeling he’d had since he’d woken up here. It was satisfying for something to finally go his way. He wished he could grope her and maybe he’d risk it at some point, but his focus was on pleasuring her and eventually, his hand slid up so that it could slip back down, this time beneath her pants and her panties. She was so warm and that was familiar to him, but something he’d not felt in years. 

When he touched Widow, she was cold, but Mercy was a hot-blooded woman. 

\---

She shivered hard when his hand slipped into her pants. This was a mistake, but how much worse would things be if she brought a stop to it? The direct rubbing felt even better and she found herself parting her thighs for him in spite of herself. 

\---

He chuckled under his breath when she spread her legs. Fuck did he want to turn her over and take her hard. That was nowhere near being an option, so he contented himself with touching her. For a while he simply worked her clit, but eventually his fingers wandered lower. They slipped inside her and curled, rubbing her walls while his thumb took over the spot where she needed it most. 

\---

His laugh, so dark and so satisfied gave her a little thrill that made her stomach turn. She kept very quiet, but she was moaning softly when she exhaled. It was such a simple touch, it shouldn’t feel this good, but did. She was starting to tremble, her breath picking up as he pleased her inside and out.

\---

He wanted to do more. He wanted to kiss and lick her neck, but that would be too obvious. Pretty much everything he could do besides finger her would be too obvious. Even this was risky and that made it all the more exciting. His cock was starting to strain and this time he was not shy about it. It pressed into her lower back and he let it. 

\---

It was no surprise that he was aroused. It would be shocking if he wasn’t. It added to her own pleasure to feel him pushing against her back and to imagine having that inside of her instead of his fingers. Her fingertips were digging into his arm for a different reason now as her hips began to rock beyond her control and her breathing became erratic. It was fortunate she was so petite and the security would not be able to see the way she was starting to writhe in front of his larger frame.

\---

Her reactions were heating him terribly and he knew that when she left him, he would have to work himself vigorously. “Yes,” he purred close to her ear, picking up the pace just enough. He snuck in his grope, his hand slipping around her and squeezing her firmly, before falling back to continue rubbing her back.

\---

The whisper in her ear did her in. She bit her lip to keep quiet and her muscles squeezed his fingers as she came. The moment the peak of her pleasure was over, she felt a rush of shame, but one that she quickly tried to justify. Yes, this was wildly inappropriate and she was his doctor, but her refusal could have been deadly and really, this had been harmless. Beneficial even, if it led him to trust her enough for another procedure. 

She shifted, putting on a show of stretching for the audience behind them to justify any movement they might have seen, but when her arms returned to her sides, she slipped one behind her. She gave him a firm squeeze, then quickly returned her hand to the safer territory of his arm. “Thank you for the massage, Gabriel. That was very nice.”

\---

The feel of her cumming was so satisfying that he made a soft sound himself. Everything about this had been immensely erotic and he was in the best mood he’d been in since this started. Then she reached back and touched him and his heart rose to his throat. He would have expected her to take what he offered and leave, so even though it was little more than an acknowledgement, the fact that she touched him at all was enough to make him ache.

He slipped his hand from her pants and held her against him. “It was my pleasure.” His voice was a deep rumble that spoke of his desire.

\--- 

Since he didn’t seem to want her to distance herself right away, she let him hold her. She’d let him do what he wanted and it felt like the danger had passed. She still felt a little ashamed, but all in all she felt...good. She reached for her cup, taking a sip of whiskey to help calm the adrenaline in her, then raised the cup to Reaper’s lips to offer him a drink as well. A little intimate for their onlookers, but nothing compared to what they’d just done.

\---

He smiled and took a sip of it himself. It tasted good, but… he had an idea of something that might taste better. He traded hands, sliding his free one around her and lifting the other to his mouth. He pretended he was wiping away some whiskey that might have clung to his lips, but really he was inhaling her scent. Then he slipped the fingers into his mouth and tasted them. 

Just like he’d thought. Much better. 

\---

She couldn’t see him all that well, laying back against him as she was, but she knew exactly what he had done with those fingers and it gave her a fresh wave of heat. “Taste good?” As far as anyone listening in was concerned, she would be asking about the whiskey. As if he hadn’t already said that the whiskey was good.

\---

“Very.” He wanted to remain like this for a while, but he knew he couldn’t hold her for too long. They’d hugged and touched enough, but it would be harder to explain prolonged contact without the excuse of a ‘massage’. With reluctance, he let go of her and gave her the space she needed to slip from between his thighs.

\---

She was content to stay against him until his arms loosened. As pleasant as all of that ended up being, it was still a huge relief to be out of his reach once she rose to her feet. She stooped for her lab coat and put it on, feeling a little better to be fully dressed again. “It’s been a long day, I should probably get to bed. I’ll come see you in the morning, okay?”

\---

Once she was no longer obscuring him, he reached down and tucked himself against his waistband, so it wouldn’t be so obvious how hard he was when he stood. He stooped for his mask and his cup and when he had both, he looked at her. “Whatever you say, doc.” His weight shifted as if he wanted to step closer to her, but he held himself in check. 

\---

There wasn’t much left in her cup, but she left it there for him. She was still a little flustered, but she felt composed for the most part. She also wanted to move in closer and she did so, but kept a professional distance from him and just put a light hand on his shoulder. “Get some sleep, Gabriel. Goodnight.” With that, she left his cell, not wanting to meet the eyes of the men who had been watching over them.

\---

His eyes were warm. There was heat and something else stirring behind them. He watched her go and when she was gone, he quickly finished both of their drinks. The cups were dumped on the floor and he made his way to his bed. He dropped down onto it and hastened to draw himself out - he had a lot of pent up emotions to work out.


	28. Chapter 28

The next morning, Mercy was nervous to go into the room that held Reaper. Not for the usual reasons, she didn’t expect him to want to hurt her. She just wasn’t sure what he would think of her after the night before. He’d probably lost some respect for her and she wondered if that would make him more unruly and hard to manage. On the other hand, he might have a new affinity for her and maybe he’d actually be easier to deal with. She wouldn’t know until she’d spent some time with him. 

She came in with the water she always brought for him, bringing a little extra after the whiskey they’d had last night. “Good morning. How are you feeling?” It was a standard enough greeting, but she could feel that she was blushing a little as she approached the bars.

\---

Reaper was always waiting for her, in his own way, but this morning, he was really waiting for her. When she stepped in, he stood and made his way to the bars himself. He saw the heat in her cheeks and it made him smile, amused and satisfied with himself. A smile that she would see, because he was not wearing his mask currently. He’d left it off last night and it was still lying on the floor by his bunk. 

“A little sick still, but I’ll be alright.” He leaned into the bars. “How are _you_ feeling?” he asked with no small amount of significance.

\---

That was a positive sign. She smiled, moving close enough that she would be within his reach. “I feel good, thank you. I think your massage helped a lot.” Both massages, by the looks of it. She offered him a bottle of water. “Do you have a headache or just nausea?”

\---

“It was the least I could do.” Literally. There was so much more he would have done if he could. “Just nausea.” He took the water from her, opening one right away to take a deep drink of it. When he closed it, he tossed the bottles behind him and they landed with a soft ‘thump’ on his bed. 

He studied her, curious if she was still interested in him at all or if last night had been a one off. To test, he slipped a hand through the bars and brushed her hip in a way that wouldn’t be caught by the camera. 

\---

She was curious about the same thing, but the touch answered that question simply enough. It gave her that sick feeling in her stomach again, but it was also a little empowering. She stepped a little closer to the bars. “Then you probably don’t want painkillers. But I brought a medicine for your nausea, if you’d like.” Maybe he still wouldn’t trust her enough to take any pills she offered him. 

\---

He shook his head. “Ingesting anything is just going to give me more nausea.” That included medicine. Though he’d never tried an anti-nausea… maybe that would be some strange exception. “I do better with shots.” If he needed medicine. He didn’t often need medicine, though. His hand continued to touch her, though it was simple and not nearly as suggestive as his touches last night.

\---

Her hand fell onto his, but not to still him. She stroked her thumb lightly over his wrist. “I don’t imagine you want me giving you any shots. But I can get you something injectable for nausea if it would make you feel better.”

\---

The returned touch was satisfying. He’d been trying to win her trust for a while and all it took was a night with his hands and she was wrapped around his fingers - he didn’t realize the irony when he, with some reluctance, responded, “...I suppose.”

\---

She smiled, not expecting his agreement. “Then I’ll bring you some shortly.” She gave his hand a light squeeze. “Would you like a massage today?” She couldn’t give him one like the one she’d been given last night, but she thought keeping up the physical contact between them would be good.

\---

“I would.” His eyes told her exactly what kind of massage he would like, but he knew that wasn’t possible. Even if they tried to do it exactly as they had last night, just swapped, they would not be able to get away with it. It was simply too difficult to hide. Still, her touches were welcome and he could take care of himself after, as was starting to become the trend.

\---

“Then go lay down and get comfortable. I’ll bring you the shot and get your massage done before we start our day.” Though he didn’t have much of a day to start. She would be very busy, as she always was. He would be doing nothing at all. She thought if she pushed hard enough for the sake of his mental health, she could convince them to at least give him a deck of cards or something to entertain himself with.

\---

With a final look, he pushed himself away from the bars and went to his bunk. He slipped his shirt off, as always, and laid down on his stomach after moving the water bottles aside. It wasn’t often he got a massage in the morning, so that would normally be an interesting change of pace, but after last night, he had something much more interesting to mull over.

\---

Mercy made quick work of getting her hands on the medication, then returned to him. She knew security would be following when they opened the door to his cell and for once she was a little...disappointed. Not because she wanted to do anything particularly scandalous, but because she didn’t think she was in any danger for once. It would be nice to show him that she believed what he said. ...At least right now.

She made her way to the cot and sat down at his side as she always did. She took an alcohol swab from her pocket and opened it, using it to clean a little patch of skin on his arm. “This is just Zofran. Very commonly given nausea medication. It works quickly but might give you a little bit of a headache.”

\---

When he returned, he watched her as she joined him. Initially he was still as she wiped his arm, but his heart pounded. There was a moment of panic and he pulled his arm away, going so far as to push himself up to put some space between them.

“Wait. No, I changed my mind.”

\--

She startled a little when he sat up. Suddenly she was a little more grateful for security. “O-oh! Okay, no problem.” She showed him her hands to prove she wasn’t even holding the syringe yet, only the swab she’d used to clean his skin. “Do you still want a massage at least?”

\---

Slowly, he nodded. It took a moment, but he relaxed. Even after, he knew that she was telling him the truth about what was in the syringe, but… there was no way for him to ever know for sure. She could inject him with anything and after having been injected several times against his will, it was hard for him to let her put another unknown substance into him. 

Eventually, he eased back down to his stomach for her. At least trusting that she wasn’t going to sneak the shot when he wasn’t looking.

\---

When he was prone again, she relaxed. That had gone alright, even if he hadn’t trusted her enough to give him the medicine. She got the oil from her pocket and warmed it up in her fingers before starting in on his shoulders. She knew there were other places he wanted her to touch him and it wasn’t feasible. ...But maybe she could still give him a little tease if it would keep him this friendly with her.

\---

As she started to rub him, he was able to put the incident out of mind and it was almost as if it hadn’t happened. She had simply come in and started to massage him, like always. Except not like always, because there was some tension between them now. He didn’t know if it would work him up like it had last time she’d massaged him, but if it did, he would not be so shy about hiding his state. At least from her.

\---

She got into her usual routine, working his muscles that she had a new appreciation for now that she'd been held in those powerful arms. "I don't have many patients this muscular…" She hoped the compliment might help alleviate the tense moment they'd had. "Definitely none that I've massaged anyway."

\---

He chuckled under his breath. He knew that was not a compliment she would have tossed his way before, but it was appreciated as much as her mention of his strong hands the night before. “Lucky you.”

\---

"Lucky me." She smiled, relieved that it had been well received. When her hands worked lower, her fingers stroked further along his sides than they usually did. As his had started to wander around to her stomach the night before. 

\---

He was familiar enough with how this worked that her straying fingers took his immediate notice. His eyes shut and he thought about the way he’d touched her the night before. He hadn’t really felt her skin, so he hadn’t been able to savor how soft it likely was, but what he had felt was much more satisfying and he thought about how wet and warm she’d been as her fingers teased him.

\---

"How are your wounds? Is it still painful to do day to day things like showering?" She'd never asked him about his aversion to the shower, but considering how sensitive they'd been before, she could only imagine how much it must have hurt to get water in them. She'd always been careful of his wounds and her fingers were especially delicate as she passed over one now. 

\---

“No.” It had been nice the first time he’d showered since her procedure. It had always been such an unpleasant affair, but he’d finally enjoyed a hot shower for the first time in a long time. “It doesn’t hurt anymore.” They still twinged beneath the water, but it was such a small thing it wasn’t even worth noting. 

\---

"I'm glad, that's good improvement." She hands continued to work lower and she continued to slide her fingers further around his sides than she needed to. Her fingertips dipped slightly to the underside of his hips. Close to the part of him she knew he wanted her to touch. "If it still bothered you, I was going to suggest another procedure. I'd love to see you pain-free. If it wouldn't be too much of an intrusion, I could examine you in your shower. See what water temperatures and pressures you could tolerate if I desensitize your wounds a little more…" Her watching him and touching him while he was naked was hopefully enough of an added bonus that he wouldn’t immediately shoot down the procedure. 

\---

Like the last time she massaged him, he was starting to tense a little. He was thickening against the mattress and when he shifted his hips this time, he wasn’t so subtle about it. He didn’t mind if she caught on - he just didn’t want the cameras catching on. When she continued, however, he stilled. 

He was silent for a while and then when he spoke, it was with a changed tune. “I suppose they do hurt. Just not like they used to, so I don’t mind it much…” He wasn’t even really thinking about the ‘procedure’, he was thinking about what she had to say about the shower. Surely she’d have to ‘examine him’ beforehand to have a baseline to go off of.

\---

This time she knew it wasn't discomfort from the massage making him tense. "Oh? Then maybe you'd consider letting me do something about that for you?" She was working her way back toward the middle of his back and she ran her fingers lightly down his spine in more of a caress than a massage. 

\---

“You’ll have to look at them first, won’t you?” It was clear what he was really interested in, but he wasn’t saying no. The chance to have some semblance of privacy with her was what he wanted and if they had to wrap it up in this… then that was fine by him.

\---

"I don't think that would be a bad idea. Once before and once after." Her stomach was turning. It was wrong to manipulate him this way, but it was ultimately to help him. Besides, it was manipulation he seemed to enjoy. 

\---

“I suppose it won’t hurt to let you take a look.” As far as the whole ‘once after’, well, he’d make his feelings on that clear when it came to that. His cock was thickening even more with anticipation, even though he imagined this wasn’t something they would be doing today. He’d like it if they did, but he assumed she needed to prepare somehow. 

\---

"I'll make some time tomorrow for that examination." Then maybe she could convince him to go forward with the procedure. She was rubbing him low on his hips again, lower than she really needed to. 

\---

He was rocking himself ever so slightly. It was infuriating, really, how little stimulation he could give himself, but even that slight friction was better than nothing. He usually rested his head on his arms, since he didn’t have a pillow, but he had stretched them forward so he was gripping the edge of the bunk, his fingers tightly closed around the metal frame.

\---

She could see how pent up he was getting and it was a little flattering. She was working him up with such innocent touches. But then, with no access to any other women right now, it was no surprise. "I suppose I should get going." She had a lot to do and he needed to tend to himself. 

\---

He brought himself to a stop and turned his head to look at her from where he was lying. There was lust in his eyes, but otherwise he kept himself controlled. “See you later, doc.” She’d stop by tonight and then tomorrow… He was looking forward to tomorrow.

\---

"See you later." Her eyes were warm and she gave his back the customary little pat she usually did before she rose and started out. She had a little time now to convince security that it would be safe for her to be in his bathroom nook alone with him. 


	29. Chapter 29

When Jack made his way into the room that evening, he was still smeared with dirt and sweat from the job he’d been on. There was a corpse slung over his shoulder, doubtless one of the many nameless thugs Talon employed. The team had been asked to save at least one for Reaper and he meant to deliver it personally. “Hungry?” He asked in a grumble as he neared the bars.

\---

When the door opened, Reaper looked up. He was expecting to see the doctor and was looking forward to it, so when the last man he wanted to see walked in, he scowled. He had finally put his mask back on, so it wasn’t immediately obvious, but his eyes were dark enough to get his feelings across. 

He saw what he had and the scowl deepened. He needed it, but he didn’t want it from him. 

“Keep coming in here the way you are and I’ll start to think you have a thing for me.” 

\---

“I have a gift for you.” He said, ignoring him entirely as he dumped the body by the bars. “Not the corpse I wish I could have brought you today, but it’ll have to do.” Not that he thought Reaper had any affinity for anyone. Just that a more valuable hit to Talon’s ranks would have been nice.

\---

“If you want to make it up to me, just bring me your corpse.” He remained where he was, making no move to go to the body. He had a feeling he knew why he was here. He wasn’t interested in feeding his morbid curiosity, so he wasn’t going to do what he needed to until he was gone.

\---

He took a seat in Mercy’s chair, picking up her notes to look them over as he had the last time. “She told me she watched you do it last time.” She’d needed to see how it was that he fed. They’d all seen the aftermath of the corpses he left behind for themselves.

\---

“And you want a show?” He folded his arms over himself. “Fuck you.” He preferred to do what he had to do alone, but he’d done it in front of others from time to time. Widowmaker more than anyone. Still, he wasn’t here to entertain him and he didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing what he’d turned him into.

\---

“She _still_ insists there’s some shred of humanity left in you. So let’s see it. Let’s see just how human you are.” How she could watch him pull the soul from a man and still think he was in any way human was insane to him.

\---

He growled under his breath. “That’s what you want? To see that I’m a monster?” He stepped closer to the bars, his muscles tense and posture threatening. “It’s what you wanted to make me, so are you happy that I am?” He was a monster and he knew it. He wouldn’t deny it.

\---

He crossed one leg over the other. “I can already see it. I want you to stop trying to convince Dr. Ziegler otherwise. It’s a waste of everyone’s time. If you want to end this, then stop stalling.”

\---

Like that, the tension in him eased. He laughed to himself. If only he knew… If only he knew what he’d done to her last night. What he was going to do to her tomorrow morning. “You got what you wanted, _Jack_ , stop being such a little bitch about it.” He hadn’t denied what he was to any of them. Not even to her - his game had never been to pretend he wasn’t what he was, but that he could be grateful to her. That he could change his mind about her.

\---

“And you got what you wanted. I told McCree about what I did.” More what he’d been planning to do. “I’ll tell anyone else that asks. It doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t make you any less disgusting.”

\---

“No, it just makes _you_ more disgusting.” He found himself walking over to the restraint chair and sitting there. It was the first time he’d taken a seat while he was in the room, but there was something mocking to the way he lounged in it. “I know you told McCree. McCree came in here and apologized to me. Told me he never would have let you do what you tried to - seems to me you’ve lost an ally.”

\---

“He’ll come around in time. My decisions were for Overwatch and all the good it can accomplish. No one who hasn’t had to make the kind of choices I had to would understand.” He bridged his fingers together. “I never wanted to do it to you, Reyes.”

\---

He snarled, shifting forward in his seat suddenly. “Cut the shit, Morrison. You sit there and act like it was some great sacrifice for you to throw me on the altar. A real sacrifice would’ve been your resignation, but that wouldn’t have been to your benefit, would it? Better to betray me and let them kill me.”

\---

“No one’s resignation was going to be enough. If taking the fall myself would have saved Overwatch, I would have done it. They wanted a monster. You already showed the signs and now… now you’ve proven me right.” He gestured down to the corpse on the floor, as if that was proof enough.

\---

He rose to his feet, finger pointing at him. “You and you alone turned me into this.” Every word sounded like gravel, his voice as sinister as it ever got. “I would have died for Overwatch. For Blackwatch. Now, I won’t rest until you and everyone else are dead instead. Then and only then will I have gotten what I want.”

\---

“If I alone turned you into this, why not just kill me? What do the rest of them have to do with this?” It was a little satisfying to get him riled again. To wipe that smugness he’d lounged into the chair with away like it had never been there.

\---

“Because I want you to know that when you tried to sacrifice me, you chose wrong. You chose to sacrifice everyone.” Every single death that he’d caused since that day rested entirely on his shoulders. “Once Overwatch burns to the ground beneath you and you have nothing left, then I’ll take you out of your misery.” 

“You want to see what’s in store for you?” He tore off his mask and walked to where the body was laying in front of the bars. With a single hand, he drew it up so it was level with him, bringing it intimately close to him. There had been no sign of smoke from him since this had started - he hadn’t even known if he _could_ feed the first time he tried since having his abilities taken from him - but it began to fill the air. It rose from the body and started to seep into him. Into his eyes, into his nose, into his mouth, into every single cut scattered about his body. 

The corpse shriveled and by the time he was done, the skin was black and dry, clinging tightly to bone. It was as if there was not a drop of moisture left in it, as if it was mummified. When he dropped it, the thump it made was much, much lighter than when it had initially been tossed to the ground. 

\---

It was what he’d wanted to see, but it was no less awful. He was quiet a long moment, looking at the ruined corpse on the ground. “And does everyone include McCree, who apologized to you? Angela, who is risking everything to save your life?”

\---

He had no intention of answering those questions. If he told the truth, it would get back to her. He’d told her more than once that he wasn’t going to hurt her, so he couldn’t admit that he still intended on killing her. Instead, he sat back down and looked at him coolly.

\---

“Of course it does. Maybe McCree will understand in that moment why all of this happened. I’m not going to say that I’m not a monster these days too, but you…” He shook his head. “You’re something else.”

\---

At that, he smiled. “I am. I’m your worst nightmare.” If he wanted to tell himself that he was like this before to help himself sleep at night, then he could. He could tell himself whatever he wanted. It wouldn’t change anything. Certainly not the truth.

\---

“What are you doing in here?”

Jack heard her voice and held in a sigh. The good doctor was back and no matter what he said to her, she wasn’t going to take the danger of this any more seriously. “I brought your project an evening snack.”

Angela made her way to him, her arms folded apprehensively as she looked between them. There was, in fact, a husk of a body on the ground. Otherwise it didn’t look like anything violent had happened between them. 

\---

“Angela.” His voice was a lot silkier now, but not for her benefit. He knew it would annoy the fuck out of him for them to be on a first name basis. “Would you mind? He’s really going out of his way to harass me.” Basically, he was asking her to kick him out. Knowing that she would and that she would side with him. That would annoy Morrison even more.

\---

She scowled down at the man in her chair. It was undoubtedly true. Why would 76 be here if not to bother her patient? 

The look was enough and Jack huffed an annoyed breath, but got to his feet. On his way by, however, he took hold of Angela’s arm. He gripped her rather roughly and leaned in, whispering in her ear. When he was finished, he released her with a rough jerk and started out. The doctor was left watching him go with a frown, rubbing absently at her bicep where he’d grabbed her.

\---

He watched him go, though the rough whisper made him narrow his eyes. “...Are you alright?” Obviously he’d hurt her. It was no more than he’d done himself, but he wasn’t him and he didn’t like anyone else manhandling her.

\---

The question pulled her attention back to the man behind the bars and she softened. “Y-yes, I’m alright.” Just a little rattled. She went to the bars. “Are you okay?”

\---

He hummed. “He knows how to get to me.” That was true, but he was looking for sympathy. He wanted to make sure she _was_ on his side. “He tries to tell himself that I was always a monster so that I deserved what he wanted to do to me.” He reached through the bars and brushed the spot on her arm where he’d grabbed her.

\---

She let him caress her newly bruised skin, then took his hand in both of hers. “Don’t listen to him. He’s still coming to terms with what he’s become after all this. You weren’t a monster then and you’re not one now.”

\---

That she showed any empathy for Morrison at all made him angry, but he swallowed it. He squeezed her hand, his eyes on hers. “I am, Angela. We both know that I am.” It was stupid to pretend otherwise. She wanted to pull him back from what he was and he had to let her think it was possible. For that, he needed to be honest about what he was or there was nothing for her to pull him back from.

\---

"No. Maybe you were before, but not now." She moved the hand she held to her throat. Her heart was starting to race, but there was genuine trust in her eyes. He could do it before security got there, but he wouldn't. "You don’t want to hurt me anymore, do you?"

\---

Surprise entered his eyes as he looked to where his hand was set. He was silent as he studied the spot and the offer that she was giving him. He squeezed ever so slightly, then his hand softened. He stroked her skin with his thumb. “No,” he murmured, his eyes lifting to hers.

\---

There was an instant of fear when his fingers tightened briefly, but in the end, she smiled. She lifted the hand she held from her throat and kissed his knuckles. "Then you're not a monster." Still terrifying, but greatly improved. 

\---

At the kiss, his eyes softened too. “...I don’t think it’s that simple.” She was so naive and the longer he looked at her, the more he was drawn to her. He leaned into the bars, his hand gripping one of them. Quietly, so the cameras wouldn’t pick it up, he murmured, “I really want to kiss you.”

\---

That was also a big improvement from trying to kill her. She leaned in so she could whisper her answer. "Tomorrow. I'm insisting that security respect your privacy and not follow us into your shower." Then if he still wanted to kiss her...she'd allow it, especially if it made him more agreeable to a procedure. 

\---

“Tomorrow,” he agreed, his eyes searching hers. With reluctance, he tugged his hand from hers. He seemed to be taken with her, however, because he couldn’t tear himself away any more than that. 

\---

She lingered by the bars when their contact broke, her eyes locked on his. "Do you need anything before I go to bed?" The corpse would have to be cleaned up, but someone else would do that. 

\---

“You.” He knew that her answer would be the same. He had to wait until tomorrow to have her to himself, but she’d asked and he was being honest with her. 

\---

She gave him a soft smile, clearly a little charmed. "I'll come early tomorrow." She assured him, knowing he would be waiting on her. "Get some rest."

\---

With a final look, he tore himself away from the bars. He picked up his mask, but kept it balled in a hand as he made his way to his bunk. He’d lay down, but he didn’t think sleep would find him that night.


	30. Chapter 30

When Mercy returned the next morning, she wasn't in her usual work clothes or her scrubs. Even her beloved lab coat was missing. She was dressed more as she would be on one of her rare days off - in shorts, a tank top, and sandals. 

The only thing out of place were the bruises on her arm from Jack's strong fingers. She'd listened to the audio from the night before, as he'd insisted when he grabbed her, but she'd been unimpressed. No, Reaper hadn't denied that he wanted to kill her. But he was also being antagonized - why would he show any hint of mercy when he was talking to 76?

"Good morning…" She said as she approached the bars, security following her but staying near the back of the room.

\---

Usually when she entered the room, Reaper, though waiting for her, was not so intent on the door. He was sitting on the edge of his cot, leaning forward with his forearms on his knees. As soon as she stepped in, he was up. “Good morning,” he answered, but stayed where he was. It was her turn to come to him.

\---

"Are you still feeling up for an examination in the shower today?" She asked, mostly for the sake of the cameras. She could tell by the way he was watching her that he'd been waiting for this. She made her way to the cell door, but waited there for his answer. “We’ve turned off the timer so it will run longer.” The water he was allocated each day was admittedly not a lot. They wanted him in sight at all times, so they made sure he didn’t have a reason to linger in his ‘bathroom’.

\---

“Yes.” His eyes wandered her, but seemed to linger longest on her legs. He hadn’t seen her legs in a long time. They were lovely and he was satisfied to see how little she wore.

\---

She looked up to the cameras and was let inside the cell. Her security remained at the back of the room. "I'll wait for you in the shower. Undress to your comfort level and come inside." She started for the little nook that served as his bathroom. She'd seen all there was to see of him, but always in a clinical mindset. Today would be a little different. 

\---

His eyes followed her and when she was out of sight of the others, he started to take off his clothing. The only thing he left on were his pants, but that was for show. He trailed after her and as soon as he was out of sight as well, he gave her a smirk. He reached for the button that started the shower - apparently knobs were too much of a danger - so that the sound of the water would mask them.

Then he wasted no time tugging her in against him.

\---

Her heart pounded as soon as he pulled her in. This was as close to hidden as they could be and his best chance at hurting her. He wouldn't, though. Not so long as there was something else he wanted from her. "Gabriel…" She murmured, barely audible over the water and she caressed his cheek lightly with her fingertips.

\---

He met her gaze and when she touched him, he tipped his head into it. Then he made a move of his own, leaning in and pressing his lips to hers. He was too impatient to take his time with it. It wasn’t as if they had much time anyway. If they took too long, he didn’t doubt the men would step inside to check on them. The kiss was passionate from the start, his arms sliding around her as he pushed her back into the wall. Near the stream of water, but not close enough for either of them to feel more than the occasional stray drop.

\---

His kiss was unlike anything she'd ever experienced. The missing portion of his lip was interesting enough, but the taste of him was so unique. Even the temperature of his mouth wasn't quite right. She kissed him back hard, her fingers falling to rub along his hips, toying with the waistband of the pants he'd left on. 

\---

He growled under his breath, but instead of with anger, it was with arousal. His own hands started to explore, dipping beneath her shirt and finally feeling her skin. He wanted to tear her clothes off, but he couldn’t. Again, if the men decided to check on them, she needed to be able to compose herself quickly. His hand slid up and when he felt the bra that held her breasts, he dug his fingers beneath it, so he could squeeze her directly. 

\---

His hands were so strong, so deadly, but right now they were gentle enough. She moved a hand forward to feel him through the soft fabric of the pants she'd given him when he arrived. She only stole a squeeze the last time she touched him, but now she rubbed and squeezed him thoroughly. She wanted him in a good mood when she asked him about the next procedure. 

\---

He made a sound, pressing his stiffening cock into her hand. He devoured her mouth, his tongue seeking entrance to it so he could explore her even more thoroughly. His hands tugged at her bra, bringing it and her top down enough that her breasts would spill out and he could enjoy them at least somewhat unconfined.

\---

She parted her lips, inviting him in and greeting him with her tongue. It wasn’t exactly comfortable when her breasts overflowed from the top of her bra and her tank, but at least they were flatteringly pushed high on her chest. It would be easy enough to to pull her clothes back into place if security checked in on her. 

\---

Her mouth was so warm and though he loved the thought of that warmth wrapping around him, there was somewhere else where she would be even warmer. Even wetter. He kissed her until he couldn’t take it and when he broke off, it was to twist her around and pin her front to the wall. His fingers went straight to her shorts and he unbuttoned them and unzipped them, trying to push them down to her thighs.

\---

Her heart picked up even more. This was happening faster than she had expected, but it wasn't that surprising. They didn’t know how much time they had. She pressed back into him, trying to grind herself against him while he worked at her shorts. She needed to be wet enough and her nerves were getting the better of her. She forced herself to take a deep breath, wanting to relax and let him have his way. 

\---

She was so willing and that did more for him than everything else. As soon as her shorts were low enough, her panties followed. They were shoved down so her ass was exposed to him and he took a moment to squeeze there too. When he’d had his fill of that, he pushed his pants down and started to run himself along her ass and between her legs, bending her at the waist enough that he could access her slit.

\---

She shivered when she felt him against her ass. Even his cock felt a little too cool to the touch. She bent for him, but she reached for his free hand moving it around to her clit. She wanted him to rub her like he had that night. That would get her where she needed to be for this. 

\---

He chuckled when she brought her hand around. He’d been working his way to that, but perhaps not in the order she wanted. He wanted to sink inside her, but as he started to rub her, he let go of himself to take hold of both of her hands and pin them to the wall above her head.

\---

That laugh won another shiver from her. She moaned softly, grateful for the water to drown out the sound as she rocked herself against his fingers. That was exactly what she needed. Both of her hands were pinned so easily by one of his and she marveled again at just how easily he could break her if he wanted to. But instead, he wanted to please her. 

\---

He ground himself into her ass, putting her pleasure above his. For now. He was a bit of a selfish lover these days, but that was because he was used to only taking care of himself. To only caring about himself. It wasn’t as if Widowmaker had cared either way. It was different with Mercy. It had to be different. 

\---

It was so good and she was panting softly as he rubbed her just right. She parted her thighs, giving him a heated look over her shoulder. She was ready and she knew he was too.

\---

He felt a jolt of lust when she looked at him. He let go of her hands to do what he’d started to. He pushed himself against her slit and with a little adjustment, he slipped inside her. He made a sound when her heated walls wrapped tightly around him and as soon as his hand was free, he slid it around her and took hold of her neck.

She’d offered it to him last night in an exercise of trust and he wanted to continue that. To turn that threatening touch into something erotic. He kept her tightly pressed between him and the wall as he started to thrust into her, conscious enough to do it in a way that prevented the sound of their skin slapping.

\---

She bit her lip to keep herself quiet as he filled her. Her hands braced her weight against the wall, pushing back into him. Her blood went cold when his fingers wrapped around her throat, but the flash of fear only added to her pleasure.

\---

She was completely helpless beneath him and he savored it. To have control again. To be able to hold her still and do whatever he wanted to her. He used that power to fuck her, to pant in her ear as he worked her with his fingers. He nipped the cartilage, knowing that would be more uncomfortable than if he went for something softer. 

“Say my name,” he muttered into it.

\---

He was starting to make her tremble beneath him. It felt incredible and the way he had her heart racing…

"Gabriel…" Her accent was a little thicker than usual, ending his name in a muffled little moan. "Don't stop…" 

\---

“My name,” he repeated, purring. He wanted her to say it. To say his true name. He had no intention of stopping. Even if she asked him to stop, it would be a struggle. He pressed himself firmly into her, using depth in place of speed, since getting carried away could give them away.

\---

"Gabriel...Reyes…" She knew what he wanted to hear, but she was stubborn. Her hips were starting to grow erratic and she was near the edge when a voice called from the other side of the room. 

"Dr. Zieglar? Is everything okay?"

Her hand shot down to still the fingers rubbing her clit. She needed to compose her voice and she couldn't do it while that was happening. She took a deep breath, then let it out, willing all the pleasure and nervousness out of her voice. "Of course it is. I'll call if I need anything, please don't interrupt me when I'm examining a patient."

\---

He smirked and tightened his hand ever so slightly on her throat. He used his hold on her to keep her bent back into him, her body stretched for him. Vulnerable. Before he could speak, the voice broke him out of it and he stiffened. He stopped what he was doing and when she answered, he laughed again.

“I think I’m the one examining you, Dr. Zieglar,” he breathed, his hand straying from her clit so he could give her tits as squeeze while he resumed taking her.

\---

She shivered and smiled back at him when he started up again. "Am I passing your exam?" She was rocking back into him again, wanting to get back to where she'd been when they'd been rudely interrupted. 

\---

When he hummed in consideration, the sound was steeped with sex. “So far.” They weren’t done just yet. He slid his hand back down to resume what he was doing to her. He’d felt her little shivers and trembles and he wanted her to lose it while he was still deep inside her.

\---

Her breath caught when his hand returned to where she needed it and she pressed back against him with even more enthusiasm. She felt the tension mounting quickly in her again, her thighs starting to tremble and her back starting to arch beneath him. 

\---

He felt the change in her and finally he let go of her neck. Instead, he pressed his hand to her mouth, to make sure she stayed silent while she came. She’d done a good job before, but this was considerably different. At least, to him it was considerably different. His own pleasure was mounting and making it harder for him to stay silent.

\---

It was a precaution she was grateful for, but she was still very quiet as she panted against his palm. She came hard, her knees nearly giving out on her, her muscles squeezing and pulsing around the cock they held. It was all she could do to stay braced against the wall, her legs trembling as she came undone.

\---

He groaned when she came. She was so hot; it felt so good to be inside her and as tight as she was while her walls squeezed him in delight, he was losing it himself. “Good girl,” he praised her, rubbing her through it. When the signs of her pleasure waned, he slid his arm around her middle and simply held her as he finally focused on himself, panting harshly.

\---

His voice gave her a fresh lick of pleasure, even as the intensity of her orgasm passed. She was still shaky, but she managed to strengthen her footing again, pressing her hips back into him so he could finish taking what he needed from her. 

\---

He couldn’t go nearly as fast or as hard as he wanted, but with as badly as he’d wanted this and as aroused as he was, his steady thrusts were enough. In the end, they turned into bucks as he spilled a thick load into her with another, deeper groan. His hips slowed to a stop and he braced himself against the wall, still holding her to him.

\---

Even the cum that filled her didn't feel quite as warm as it should. When he finished, she started to pull away so she could turn and face him, but that strong arm was still around her. She knew she wasn't going to be able to move from this position until he let her. 

\---

He felt her trying to shift, but he thought she was trying to step away from him entirely. He wasn’t ready for that, so he kept her still. Eventually, though, he wanted her turned to him, so he loosened his arm and gave her a twist. Still stuck between him and the wall, but now they were face to face.

\---

There was a strangely pleasant wariness in her when he didn't let her move, but eventually she got what she wanted, even if he'd manipulated her body to do it. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and kissed him hard. 

\---

He wasn’t sure what to expect from her, so the embrace and the kiss was a welcome surprise. He returned the kiss, his own arms sliding around her waist. She was clearly taken with him and it gave him a rush to think how easily he’d won her over. In this state, no less. It satisfied him on so many levels, including the one in which he’d wanted her for years. Not in recent years, but back when he’d led Blackwatch. 

\---

She broke the kiss and looked up to him with a warm smile. "Let's get you in the water. I really do need to examine you…"

\---

He couldn’t argue against that, so he eased back from her. He looked down at her, taking in her disheveled appearance. He knew she’d tuck her tits away, so he wanted to get an eyeful while he could. When he finally forced them back up, it was with a little smirk as he worked the last of his clothing down so he was naked. 

He wouldn’t want just anyone to see him like this, but when he was willing, he wasn’t shy at all.

\---

She pulled up her panties and shorts, but left her breasts out for his viewing pleasure. “Step into the water, please. I want to see what your tolerance for water pressure is.”

\---

When he noticed that she did _not_ tuck herself away, he grinned. He was genuinely surprised by how sexual she was and it lifted his spirits for her to flirt with him so. He did as was asked of him, stepping into the stream. The water was still warm, thankfully, and he let it wet his hair and run down his body, before standing in a way where it struck his back and a couple of the tears there. He didn’t really react to it, even though there was a flare of irritation. 

\---

She felt the temperature of the water for herself, then stepped closer. She ran her fingers lightly over the tears in his back, feeling the pressure of the water that had been hitting them directly. “Is it still uncomfortable for you when the water gets into them?”

\---

“A little.” It was hard for him to complain though. It was such a difference. “It used to be… difficult. It’s like nothing now.” He’d still showered, just… not nearly as often as he should have. 

\---

“It sounds like the first procedure helped quite a bit…” Her fingers trailed lower down his back, her touch now a little more sensual than clinical. “I could do more for you if you’ll let me try again…”

\---

“I think you’ve done enough for me…” Her touches were, admittedly, a bit distracting. He was… slightly grateful to her for making his existence less miserable, but he didn’t see the necessity of fixing it anymore than it was. He wasn’t entirely convinced it was possible and he wasn’t comfortable with the poking and prodding of his brain. 

\---

“There’s so much more I could do. I could take away the rest of your pain and close up these weak spots you have.” She ran her fingers higher, brushing them over a tear in his shoulder. “I could probably do something about this too…” Her fingers roamed higher still, ghosting over his lower lip. “I could make it easier for you to drink. And do...anything else you’d like to do with your mouth…” She was laying it on thick, but maybe it would help. 

\---

He was studying her, the water still running down his body in rivers. Running through the wounds and making them ache. A simple ache, not even as strong as the other ache she was waking in him. Finally, he seemed to decide ‘fuck it’, because he grabbed her and yanked her into the water with him so that he could kiss her again.

\---

She had been splashed, but now she was thoroughly soaked when he pulled her in the water. She didn’t seem to mind, kissing him back and sliding her fingers back into his hair. “Will you let me try? Please?” She asked against his lips.

\---

There was a long silence, his lips resting against hers as he held her to him. He didn’t think she intended on doing anything awful to him, but like when he’d been confronted with the anti-nausea shot, it was hard for him to actually trust her. He had a hard time trusting anyone. 

“...I don’t know.” It wasn’t a refusal and that was a huge improvement already.

\---

She pulled back just a little, needing to meet his eyes. “I won’t hurt you.” Just as he assured her that he wasn’t going to hurt her. She believed him, for the most part. Maybe he would believe her as well. At least for the most part.

\---

He looked at her warily. His heart was beating hard and even his breaths were heavier. He leaned in for another brief kiss, and then, in a move that probably seemed out of character even considering all of this intimacy they were suddenly sharing, he shifted up and kissed her forehead as well.

\---

Her lips parted in her surprise as she looked up to him, her heart pounding in her ears. Had that really just happened? Her fingers caressed his jaw lightly after she’d had a beat to recover and she gave him a soft smile. 

\---

He pulled away from her, needing a little space. He ran his hands through his hair smoothing the water out of it. He was obviously struggling. He looked down at himself. At the wounds that were so familiar to him, he’d forgotten what he looked like without them. He shook his head to himself. “You don’t even know what I am.” She’s stopped his pain, but how could she reverse what had been done to him if she didn’t know what it was? He didn’t even know what it was and he wasn’t convinced Moira entirely did either. 

\---

She found herself breathing a little easier when he moved away. His presence was so...intense. She took a moment to tuck her breasts away, finding it a bit difficult now that her clothes were wet. “If anyone can figure it out, it’s me. I can help you, but I won’t do it against your will. I’ll only heal you if you let me…”

\---

He frowned down at his hands, looking at his palms. He didn’t think it was possible and even if it was, he didn’t know where it would end. Would she make him like he was before? Before Moira ever got her hands on him? Without his powers… He was a good soldier, but he couldn’t do what he needed to without them. He supposed if it came down to it, he could simply let Moira start over again… Just not go so far now that it wasn’t necessary. 

\---

Mercy chewed her lip anxiously as she watched him. She probably didn’t have much time left. If security didn’t ask for her again, it would be her nursing staff needing her help with something. But he was really considering it and she didn’t want to risk leaving now and not having this chance to convince him again. 

\---

A week ago, he would have been horrified and infuriated at the thought of losing his powers. He was, but for some reason… He was considering it. Maybe it was what was needed for him to leave here. To get out without Talon’s help. After, he would just do whatever it took to restore himself back to what he wanted to be. Not what Moira wanted him to be. Not what Mercy wanted him to be. What he wanted to be.

\---

She started to ring her hands together, the silence starting to feel oppressive. Was this a good or bad sign? She had to hope that he was trusting in her. That she meant what she said and she wasn’t going to hurt him.

\---

Finally, his hands lowered. “...Fine.” The word was quiet and cloaked in too much emotion to untangle. Without looking, he reached out and pressed the button to stop the flow of water. He stooped for his pants. They were soaked and he had no way to dry them off, so wrung them out and pulled them on as was.

\---

She breathed a little sigh of relief, as much for him saying something as for the favorable answer. “We’ll talk about when to do it later, okay? You can have as much time as you want.” She watched him struggle with the wet pants and frowned. “I’ll send you in something dry to wear…”

\---

He looked at her, his own lips pulled down. This wasn’t really how he would have wanted to end this, but this was what was needed. Even if he didn’t like it, he had to go along to get along. To help her convince everyone else to trust him a little. To give himself the opportunity to escape this wretched place. 

He hated it. He’d rather go out guns blazing, but it simply was not an option and he didn’t know when or even if Talon was coming for him. 

\---

“You won’t regret this.” She moved up to him, cautiously, then leaned in to press a soft kiss to his lips. “I promise you won’t.”

\---

He didn’t know about that, but he still wasn’t convinced she would be able to do anything. In that case, he was working himself up over nothing. He wasn’t as interested in being close to her right now, but he returned the kiss lightly. 

\---

“I have to go.” She didn’t think he would really mind right now. He probably needed some time to think. “I’ll see you tonight.” She’d requisition some clean, dry clothes for him. Maybe some other things while she was at it. She started out of the cell, chilled and with her arms wrapped around herself. She needed some dry clothes too.

\---

He watched her go and for a while he simply stood there, but he knew from experience that if he sat in the ‘bathroom’ for too long, they came to see what he was doing, so he eventually made his way out and dropped down into the chair. He had a lot on his mind and as much as he’d enjoyed the doctor’s company, it was the last thing he was thinking about.


	31. Chapter 31

That night, Mercy was nervous to return to Reaper. Things had been left on such a tense note. She’d hoped to warm him up a little by insisting that a few extra things be sent in with his dry clothes - a pillow, sheets, and most importantly, a deck of playing cards. He could entertain himself alone, but it would also be an excuse to spend more time with him while she worked on his rehabilitation. 

It was late when she came into the room. She’d gotten a late start to her day and she came to him in scrubs straight from her last case in the operating room. She was tired and a little disheveled, but she wanted to see how he was doing after all that happened that morning. She didn’t announce herself, knowing he was probably already watching for her when she made her way into the room and up to his cell.

\---

The ‘gifts’ had come as a surprise. He wasn’t sure what to feel about them, but he wasn’t grateful. Not entirely. The sheets and the pillow were on his bunk and he’d taken a nap earlier that day, but most of his time had been spent with the cards. He’d been so bored out of his mind this entire time - thoughts of revenge could only take him so far - and so to have something to actually do kept him occupied.

He was still occupied even when she came in. He was sitting on the ground, a game of La Belle Lucie set up in front of him. He looked up when she stepped in and he straightened a little. He’d known she’d stop by as she did every evening, but… He wasn’t sure what to expect from her. After their interaction this morning, it could be anything. He wasn’t sure how he felt himself, not after agreeing to let her experiment on him again. 

He remained where he was, not getting up to go to her or greeting her in any way. He simply looked at her.

\---

She went to the bars, placing her hands on them. "I've been trying to get you those cards for awhile. They finally fulfilled my requisition requests when you needed dry clothes." She understood their reluctance to give him sheets again, but did they really think he was going to kill himself or anyone else with cards?

\---

He looked down at the cards and then shoved them all together, forfeiting the game. He pushed them into a pile and then left them on the floor as he stood up and finally approached her. “...Thanks.” For once it didn’t leave a terrible taste in his mouth to thank her.

\---

"You're welcome." She was a little way of the change in him. How long it took him to approach. "Do you want to play a round or two with me?"

\---

He glanced back at them, thinking about it. It would be nice to have something to do with her. It’s not what he would prefer to do with her, but he doubted they would have a repeat of that morning anytime soon. If ever. “Sure.” He figured they’d play through the bars, so he went to finish gathering them up so he could bring them over.

\---

She sat down on the floor in front of the bars cross-legged, looking tired but a little more at ease since he accepted the invitation. "Do you like blackjack?" It would be nice if they could have a drink together while they played, but she hadn't thought of it. 

\---

He sat down across from her and started to shuffle the cards. It had been a long time, as with most things, since he’d played with cards, but the muscle memory kicked in and he was efficient in his riffling. “I remember it,” was his answer - he didn’t have much of an opinion on it. It was a pretty simple game, so it wasn’t as if there was anything for him to forget. 

He dealt the cards, considered his hand, and, when there was nothing else for him to do, he looked up at her.

\---

She looked at her hand pensively, then up at him. "Hit me." After she said it, she flushed a little. If whoever was monitoring audio had missed what game they were playing, they'd definitely be concerned. 

\---

He grabbed a card from the top of the deck and slid it through the bars onto the floor in front of her. Then he drew his hand back to see what she wanted to do from there. He flipped over a card for himself as well, but wasn’t paying close attention to his hand. Instead, he watched her.

\---

She considered the new card. “Hit.” It would be close, but she didn’t think she’d go over. She raised her eyes and when she found him watching her, she gave him a soft smile.

\---

His expression didn’t change, though even if it did it would be hard to tell beneath the mask. He flipped over another card for her and when he glanced back down what he had, he did nothing, deciding he’d stay. It wasn’t twenty-one, but it was close enough that he didn’t like his odds. 

\---

When he stayed, she did as well. She showed him her cards. “Nineteen.” It was good, but there was still a chance he’d done better. 

\---

His brows lifted slightly and he flipped his own cards around. “Nineteen.” For some reason, the simple fact that they’d ended up on the same number for their first hand… it lightened him. A little. 

\---

“Dealer wins a draw.” She chuckled softly and took up her cards, offering them back to him. “This round goes to you.” She was a practical woman and didn’t believe in superstition, but a whimsical part of her wanted to think maybe them landing on the same number meant the two of them were in sync somehow.

\---

He took the cards from her, his eyes on her hand as they passed to his. He dropped them back on the top of the deck and then offered it to her. “Then maybe you should deal this time.” To make it fair in the case of another draw.

\---

“Maybe I’ll be a little more lucky this time.” She took the cards from him, purposely letting her fingers brush his when she took the deck. She gave the cards a little shuffle, then dealt their cards. She peeked at hers and her lips turned up slightly. 

\---

He looked at his own cards and with a cock of his head, he announced, “Hit me.” Clearly she liked whatever she’d gotten and even though his current cards made it a risky move, he had a feeling he wouldn’t win if he didn’t take the shot.

\---

Angela flipped a card for him, still looking pleased. “I’ll stay.” She already had twenty. She watched him with her fingers hovering over the top of the deck, waiting to see if he wanted one more card.

\---

That proved to him what he already knew and as he looked at what he had - it was a miracle he’d not gone bust - he knew there was no way the next card would be what he needed. He was pretty sure she’d already won, so he shook his head. He flipped his cards over for her, showing her that while he’d reached twenty, he was missing the all important ace that would have assured him victory.

\---

She felt her cheeks heat a little when she saw what he had. What were the chances? She turned her cards over to show him that once again, it was a draw. “Heiliger strohsack.” She smiled when she looked up to him. “I guess we’re even.”

\---

In spite of himself, his lips quirked slightly. He hummed and reached for the deck, as if to take it from her so he could deal, but this time, he was the one to brush their hands together and rather than take it from her, he simply held it.

\---

She felt her heart pick up a little and she remained as she was as he held both her hand and the deck in his. Maybe things were still alright between them. Maybe talking him into a second procedure hadn’t marred their connection. After a beat, she put her other hand over his.

\--- 

He let the moment linger and then when he finally took the deck from her, he shifted closer to the bars. No longer sitting in front of them, but beside them. He started to shuffle the cards, but had no intention of dealing them. “So, doc, how often do your patients get the shower treatment?” He spoke under his breath, not wanting the cameras to pick up his words. 

\--- 

She was breathing a little easier now that he seemed to be in good humor. “Would you believe me if I told you that you’re the first to have that particular examination?” She kept her tone carefully low as well, watching him shuffle the cards. Considering his change in position, she imagined the game was over for now.

\---

He studied her, as if trying to sense the truth of it. “Just me?” He sounded satisfied with that knowledge. “I wonder why.” She was, and was claiming to be, a professional woman. She’d have never struck him as the type to do what she was doing with him, but here they were. He was working it to his advantage as much as he could.

\---

“Well, ...we have a unique doctor-patient relationship.” Very unique. She was keeping and treating him against his will and he wanted to kill her. At least that was how it had started. “And you are a unique man.”

\---

He hummed again, quieter. “So this is a… new development.” He wondered if perhaps his admiration of her had been more mutual than he’d thought at the time. Or maybe she was simply drawn to him as he was now. Now that he was a different man. A unique man, as she had so helpfully provided. 

Maybe he was a project to her, like he was to Moira. Not an experiment, but still something for her to fix. Maybe she liked that more than she liked him.

\---

“Yes...but a pleasant development, don’t you think?” It had been good for both of them. They’d both gotten pleasure out of it. More importantly, she’d convinced him to let her work on him again. 

\---

That was useful knowledge to tuck away. Not so mutual. She hadn’t liked him then, but she liked him now. At least, liked him enough to risk letting him fuck her. It was almost flattering. He liked who he was better these days too. “Pleasant,” he repeated, still shuffling absently.

\---

She shifted where she sat, turning to sit beside the bars as well. She leaned into them lightly and yawned softly behind her hand. It had been a long day, but a productive one. She doubted he would crave her quite like he had before now that he’d gotten what he wanted, but hopefully it would still be enough to keep him cooperative.

\---

Eventually he set the cards aside. There was no need to continue to busy his hands. He was content with silence. It had always been more comfortable for him than mindless chatter. At least, it had been for a long time. He knew she’d take her leave sooner if he didn’t give her a reason to stay, but that was okay with him. If she wanted to leave, then she could leave.

\---

The silence was comfortable for her as well. It might not have been if he hadn’t held her hand, but he had and she felt like things were alright between them. Her eyes fell closed after a while and her breathing started to slow. Had someone asked her a week before if she could have felt safe enough at his side to rest this way, she would have laughed, but now she was drifting off peacefully where she sat.

\---

After a while, he noticed that she was… sleeping? He was genuinely surprised and for a moment, he seriously considered trying to go through her pockets. His eyes rose to the cameras and he decided that they were undoubtedly being closely watched and someone would come storming in as soon as he started to rifle through her shit. 

Instead, he stayed where he was. He didn’t need this connection in the slightest, but… it was still better than rotting in here alone. Even with the addition of cards to keep him entertained.

\---

As time passed, she leaned more heavily into the bars, slipping deeper into slumber. Eventually a couple men from the security detail came into the room, her stillness on the camera causing the crew concern. “Dr. Zieglar?”

She startled at the sound of her name, sitting up. “O-oh...I guess I fell asleep. I’m alright.”

\---

It seemed they’d attracted security anyway. He rolled his eyes and shifted away from the bars. That was that, then. He picked up the deck, ready to retreat and return to his evening of entertaining himself with extremely frustrating card games.

\---

Mercy rose to her feet, brushing herself off. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” She assured him, still hardly able to believe she’d fallen asleep beside him. She really thought she was fairly safe with him, but she still needed to be more careful. 


	32. Chapter 32

It had been awhile since Genji had seen Mercy. He’d been on a bit of a mission of his own for the last month or so and had only recently returned. He hadn’t thought this project of hers wise and he’d voiced his concerns early on, before they’d even set it into motion, but ultimately he’d had no say and now that it was done, he wondered how much progress she’d made. 

When he sought her out, it was in the evening. That was usually when things slowed down for her and when she took the time to do her paperwork, so he decided it wouldn’t hurt for him to pop in then. When he arrived at her office, he knocked lightly on the door. It was closed, but he could see the lights on through the window so it was likely she was there. He was not so presumptuous as to simply step in, so he waited for her to answer.

\---

"Come in." She didn't know who to expect, but she wasn’t expecting anything positive. Whether it was one of her peers or someone above her station, it was probably someone here to talk to her about Reaper. About the waste of time and resources for her hopeless venture. No one had faith in it and she was tired of hearing about it. She would prove them wrong. She signed the dictation she'd been working on, then raised her coffee mug for a long sip. 

\---

He opened the door, stepped inside, and shut it softly behind him. “Good evening, Angela,” he greeted her warmly, moving to her desk and waiting for her offer to take a seat. 

\---

At the sight of her old friend, she smiled. It was a pleasant visit after all. "Genji, you're back! Please, have a seat. Tell me how everything went."

\---

He settled into the chair, his back straight and his shoulders a perfect line, but lacking the stiffness one might expect for someone who held himself so precisely. “It went well, thank you.” He took some time to tell her more about it, what he’d accomplished and what he hoped their next steps would be. 

“I hear that your mission was similarly successful.” He’d heard a fair amount about it for how long he’d been back. It seemed to be a popular subject for everyone to speculate about. “He is here and in your care.”

\---

It wasn’t surprising to hear he knew about Reaper, but it warmed her to hear him refer to it as a success. "He is. I've made some good progress with him. His pain from his pre-existing wounds has been controlled and it's done wonders for his temperament." The hot shower they'd shared had done a lot too. 

\---

“Wounds?” He didn’t know what sort of state the man was in these days, but he knew all about the doctor’s capabilities when it came to bringing a man back from the brink. “I have heard that he has hurt you…” Which was no less than he would have expected from him. He wasn’t sure where that fit into good progress, but perhaps he had misunderstood what he had heard. All the more reason why he was here - he’d rather hear it from the source.

\---

"Oh, yes. He was suffering when he first got here. It's no wonder he lashed out at me in the earliest days." Of course that had gotten back to Genji. It was far more juicy gossip than her progress. She was now two procedures in and the initial findings were good. It seemed lingering pain in wounds was gone. "He won't hurt me again."

\---

“You believe his motivation is pain?” He didn’t not think it could be so simple. “Why are you so certain of this?” He wanted to know why she trusted him. Why she thought healing his pain would change him. 

\---

"No, his motivation is anger, but healing his pain has helped." She said firmly. "He's still angry, but not with me. He doesn't want to hurt me, he's starting to trust me."

\---

“A man driven by anger is a dangerous man.” He had proven this and whatever the reason for his anger, he had not softened with time. He folded his hands together. “He is a caged animal - it is not wise to trust the tiger not to bite when you offer your hand.”

\---

"He is not an animal." She insisted with a frown. "He's a man. He'll remember that if people would stop treating him like an animal. It starts with me."

\---

He tipped his head down slightly. “You misunderstand. I do not mean that he _is_ an animal, only that he is caged as an animal is. That he will behave as an animal does when cornered.” He knew better than most what made a man. It had taken him a long time for him to come to terms with what he was. “I believe every man is capable of redemption, but he has to decide it for himself. I do not think that is what he wants.”

\---

Of course he didn't have faith in what she was doing. No one did. "He has time to decide for himself. I'm showing him kindness and understanding. How can anyone expect him to want to change when everyone treats him like a monster?"

\---

“His actions have been monstrous.” He studied her, a little surprised by how defensive she was. She’d been defensive of her decision to try to capture him from the start, but it seemed even stronger now that she had him. “Is there something you’ve seen to suggest otherwise? Does he show remorse?”

\---

She lowered her eyes. She couldn't lie to him or herself. "...No." As Soldier 76 so aggressively informed her, he wouldn't even deny that he wanted to kill her. He still spoke of wanting everyone dead. "Just...give me more time. His demeanor is improving."

\---

“You do not have to convince me of anything, Angela. I believe your heart is in the right place, I only worry that he will take advantage of you.” Truthfully, he didn’t know what had happened here since he’d been gone. She seemed to think it was going well, but he worried that she was blinded by optimism.

\---

"...He might." He might be faking every bit of affinity for her. "He might not. He deserves a second chance. If something happens to me because I gave him that chance instead of allowing him to be executed by Overwatch… so be it."

\---

Beneath his mask, he frowned. She was so… impassioned. “Why don’t you tell me about him?” He wanted to give her a chance to talk since she seemed so invested in him and so frustrated by all of the push back she’d received. “Is he very different?” In some ways, it was difficult to see Gabriel Reyes and Reaper as the same man, but in others, he was not surprised. 

\---

At the question, she softened considerably. No one had asked her anything like that. "He's different. Anyone would be after what he's been through. But he's still human. He still likes a glass of whiskey and a game of cards. Sometimes he wants space and sometimes he wants me to hold his hand. He's a _person._ "

\---

He’d heard those rumors too. That they spent time together. That they touched each other. He hadn’t really believed it, but here she was, telling him it was true. “What has he been through?” That was the second time she’d implied that she knew why he was the way he was, so he was interested in where this was all stemming from. For both of them.

\---

"A lot, but it isn't my place to talk about that. Ask him or ask Jack." Apparently 76 had been honest with Jesse. Maybe he would be with Genji also. "I know what I'm doing is dangerous, but if I can end his desire to kill everyone associated with Overwatch, it will be well worth it."

\---

  
He hummed and gave a short nod of understanding. He wouldn’t push if she thought it wasn’t her place to speak on it. “What is your plan? You have healed him, so what is next?” He didn’t know what exactly it was that she’d healed, but he assumed she wouldn’t tell him that either in order to respect his privacy. That was alright with him, it didn’t matter so much as what her next steps were.

\---

She flushed a little at the assumption that she'd mended his wounds. "Oh no, I haven't healed him. I've only controlled his pain. His wounds are unnatural and the changes Dr. O’Deorain made are...extensive. It will take several procedures to heal him. I'm no longer treating him without his consent so I will have to wait until he's ready for the next phase."

\---

“Oh, I see.” He considered that. “So he has consented, yes? That is good?” Or was she saying what she’d done so far had been without his permission and now she was waiting for his permission to continue?

\---

"Yes." That was enough to make her lips turn up at the corners. "It took some convincing, but he agreed to the latest procedure to desensitize his wounds. He was even willing to let me inject him with the serum I'm using to suppress his abilities." Progress. 

\---

That surprised him. “That is good,” he agreed. Whether it not it meant anything was another story, but it was something. “Well, it seems you have spoken of him enough - what else is new?” It was clear this was a sensitive topic for her, so he didn’t want to linger on it too long. He’d rather talk about something she wanted to talk about.

\---

It seemed to take her aback that he was changing the subject. That someone wanted to talk to her about something other than Reaper. Her smile was more genuine. "Oh, nothing too exciting. I've just been busy with work. I've been thinking of taking a day off soon. I could use a little sunshine and fresh air." It wouldn’t be a _full_ day off. She'd still need to check on Gabriel morning and night, but she could get out in between now that she could trust him to behave while she was out of the facility. 

\---

“If you would like company, I wouldn’t mind joining you.” If she wanted the time to herself, however, he understood that. He had plenty to do. The little time he had to himself, he often used to meditate, but otherwise he kept himself busy.

\---

"I'd love company. I'll let you know when I can take an afternoon away. We'll go someplace nice." Maybe out on the lake or even just a scenic walk. It would be good to get outside and take her mind off of everything. Off of Reaper, which seemed so difficult to do these days. 

\---

“I look forward to it.” He finally shifted in his seat, as if readying himself to stand. “You are busy.” He nodded down to the paperwork in front of her. “I will let you return to your work.” He didn’t want to interrupt her for too long and now that they had plans, they could always talk then.

\---

She followed his eyes to her paperwork. Yes, she was busy, but it was still always good to see him. "I'm glad you stopped in to visit. Let's get lunch soon, okay?"

\---

He smiled, flattered that she wanted to get lunch in addition to the plans they’d already made. “I would like that. Jaa ne.” He stood and stepped out, his mind on the doctor even walked away. He would have to look into this further, to make sure she was safe. 

—

She watched him go, a little smile on her lips. She really did need to make more time to be social, but once he was gone, her thoughts were back on the man waiting for her in his cell. She needed to finish her paperwork and check on him before she went to bed. No doubt his eyes would be hungry, knowing what kind of exam she promised him the next morning, she shivered just thinking about it. It wasn't right, but she was looking forward to it. To him. 


	33. Chapter 33

The next morning, Mercy entered the room much as she had for their previous "shower exam" - in casual clothing meant for getting wet. Security was at her heels as she stepped inside, but this time she was more confident they wouldn't interrupt them. Not only had she been safe the last exam, she'd talked him into a procedure. 

"Good morning, Gabriel." She said as she approached the bars, a coy little smile on her lips.

\---

The last couple of days had been rough for Reaper. Ultimately good, but rough. When the day of the procedure arrived, he’d almost refused again. When it came time for her to sedate him so they could take him to her operating room, it had taken some coaxing for him to let her. In the end, she had gotten what she wanted and in the days of healing since, he’d accepted that she’d done it. She’d fixed him. Not completely fixed him, but his wounds no longer hurt. At all. 

It was a night and day difference. His body was still not a comfortable one to reside in, but the discomfort he was now experiencing was one that he’d not noticed since the explosion. Moira’s initial experiments had mutated him on a cellular level and his body hadn’t coped well with the changes. He was in a ‘stable’ condition, despite the instability of his cells, and he had dealt with it, but he’d forgotten that it felt like this with the more immediate pain of his wounds overshadowing it. 

Without it… Well, he felt a decade younger. If she actually fixed him, how young would he feel? 

His relationship with the doctor had remained much the same. She visited him every morning and every night. They stole touches and time together. She sat with him every evening to play cards and now that he’d had some time to recuperate from his surgery, she was here to fulfill her promise. She’d teased him the night before and, like last time, sleep had evaded him as he waited for the sun to rise. 

“Doc,” he greeted her, his eyes intent on her. Like last time, he would let her come to him. 

\---

Security stayed back, as they were told, and the door opened for her when she reached his cell. "How are you feeling?" She asked when she was inside with him, hoping he still felt good after her latest tamperings. He undoubtedly wanted her to hurry up and get into the nook, so she would keep it brief. 

\---

“Better.” She already knew that, but she still needed to ‘test’ him herself. He looked her over, his eyes lingering on her legs, yet again. 

—

"I'm glad to hear it. Undress to your comfort level and meet me inside." She said and started for the nook. Her heart was starting to race, knowing how soon they would have a moment alone. How soon his hands and his mouth would be on her. 

When she was safely out of sight, she started to do a little undressing herself. She’d worn a bra that clasped in the front so it was a little more comfortable to pull down her tank and open her bra. When her breasts were free for him to look at as soon as he stepped inside, she unbuttoned her shorts as well, letting them hang low on her hips. 

\---

He slipped down to his pants and trailed after her and as soon as he saw her, a wicked look entered his eyes. He went straight to her, grabbing her and shoving her back into the wall. “You’re so eager for me,” he murmured, his fingers grazing her tits teasingly. 

—

"I've been looking forward to this…" More than she should have. She shivered when he touched her, reaching absently for the button for the shower. Her groping fingers eventually found it and they were shrouded by the sound and soft steam of the water. 

\---

He smirked, looking down at her. Suddenly, his hands were on her top and he was tugging it off of her, leaving no room for argument. After getting away with it before, he wasn’t so concerned with getting caught this time and his hands all but tore at her clothing. 

—

She was surprised and her stomach gave an uneasy twist at the thought of getting caught without her top, but his hands were demanding. She found herself helping him tug the fabric aside, leaving her top half bare. "Better?"

\---

“Not quite.” His fingers then moved to her already unbuttoned bottoms and he started to push those down, but slower. More sensually.

—

There was really no coming back from this if security checked in on them. Her heart was pounding in her ears, but she let him work her shorts and panties down, stepping out of them when they were low enough. He hadn’t really seen all of her before, not like this, and she looked up to him almost shyly. 

\---

He looked down at her, his eyes taking in her bare skin. She was as beautiful as he’d imagined and when they finally rose to meet hers, they locked in place. Even as he sank to his knees in front of her started to layer kisses onto her hip bones, slowly making his way lower.

\---

It was incredible to watch him kneel in front of her. The most dangerous man she'd ever met was kissing her hips with unnaturally cool lips. She slid her fingers into his hair and lifted one of her legs to hook it loosely over his shoulder, opening a part of herself to him that he'd only gotten to taste indirectly. 

\---

His eyes brightened when she put her leg over him and he slid a hand up to hold her thigh as he moved his mouth to where she was offering herself. He kissed her first, then ran his tongue through her folds. She wasn’t where he wanted her to be, but he could fix that and that was his intention as he started to lap at her.

\---

She shivered hard when his tongue slid across her. It wasn’t as warm as it should be, but it still felt so good. She moaned under her breath, her fingers massaging his scalp absently as he licked her. 

\---

The fingers in his hair felt so pleasant. Maybe the next time she massaged him, he would try to convince her to add that to her routine. He couldn’t help but try to close his lips around her and suck, but as he’d discovered with Widowmaker, he simply couldn’t make it work. It was as frustrating as it had been then, but it simply made him all the more intent with his tongue.

\---

She felt what he was trying to do and shared in his frustration. That would feel wonderful, but with part of his lip missing, it just wasn't possible. It was something she wanted to help him with, but she wasn’t going to suggest such a thing today. If she started trying to talk him into a procedure every time they had sex, he would only become wary of her. She was rocking herself slightly against his tongue, breathing out in soft little moans. Every time he hit her just right, her legs gave a little tremble. 

\---

It was hard for him to hear her over the thrum of the water, but her little sounds were still driving him wild. The longer he licked, the warmer she felt. The wetter she was and he lapped his reward eagerly. She really did taste incredible to him and he was so hungry for her and it showed in the way that he looked up at her.

\---

It had been awhile since she'd been treated to this and her little sounds were growing needy the longer he worked her. Her lips parted and when she looked down to him, the way he was watching her gave her a huge rush of pleasure. In no time at all she was coming undone, biting her lip to keep quiet as she rode out her release against his tongue. 

\---

He smiled when she finished and with a parting flick of his tongue, he rose to his feet. Towering over her once more. He shoved his pants down to reveal his thickened cock and he pulled her thigh back around him, wanting her to hook it around his waist. He thought of something Widowmaker had said to him and it made him smirk.

“Do you dream of me, Dr. Zieglar?”

\---

She was so sensitive, but she still pressed against him willingly when he drew her leg around him. She looked up to him and nodded. He had been on her mind so much in both a professional way and an extremely inappropriate way, that it was no wonder he made his way into her dreams sometimes. "Yes…"

\---

He pressed his hips to hers and rocked himself against her. “Tell me,” he murmured, leaning in and letting his lips travel her jaw to her ear. “Do you wake up and touch yourself?” Or maybe she touched herself before she went to sleep. Maybe she rolled around her sheets, thinking of him and wishing it was his hands instead of hers.

\---

She was so sensitive it was almost too much to feel him rocking against her, but his words had her so heated that soon she hopped up to hook her other leg around his waist, letting him support her weight and gravity press them harder together. "Before I sleep…" She murmured in a breathy little moan. "But sometimes the dream is so good, I wake up and do it again."

\---

He took her weight with ease, pressing into her to pin her securely. “I’ll come to your bed whenever you want me to.” Impossible, but if it wasn’t, he’d be in her bed every night. He liked the thought that even if he wasn’t really there, he could at least be there in spirit. In her thoughts. Haunting her. “Or should I say when you _need_ me to?” he breathed, licking the curve of her ear. 

\---

"Whenever I want you to?" She shivered when he licked her and her hand slid down to give him a squeeze. "I can be quite demanding…" She wouldn't mind having him lick her raw every night. 

\---

“Show me,” he purred. She had him in her hand, so he wanted her to show him what she wanted from him. He shifted to brush their lips together, his tongue stealing a taste of the lower. 

\---

Her tongue darted out to greet his, tasting herself on him. She gave him a few slow strokes, then positioned him at her entrance. She wanted him inside of her again. 

\---

When she positioned him, he kissed her hard. He slowly sank into her, taking his time so she would feel every inch until he was completely sheathed in her. He sighed, tugging her lip between his teeth once they were joined. 

\---

Her breathing deepened as he slowly pushed into her. Her thighs tightened around him, keeping him in deep. She cupped his cheeks in her hands, groaning under her breath as he toyed with her lip. 

\---

Her touch made him tighten his arms around her, melting into another, desperate kiss. The kiss was even harder than the last, his breath stolen by her hands. 

—

She returned his kiss feverishly. As good as it was, she wished she could fix his lower lip. That their lips could seal together more completely when they melted together this way. Finally her thighs relaxed a little and her hips gave a subtle rock, asking him to fuck her against the wall.

\---

He gave her what she wanted. What he wanted. His thrusts were slow and savoring, more lost in her mouth than in the way moved together. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been kissed like this. Had he ever been kissed like this?

—

The stretch was so good and she found herself wishing she really could take him to her bed. That they could make a night of this instead of just sneaking a few minutes in the shower. Her thumb brushed over his cheekbone and moaned, the sound muffled by his lips.

\---

His hands were tight on her, fingers pressed so firmly that the tips would bruise her flesh. The feel of her skin rubbing against his was so much better than when she was half-covered and he was glad that he’d striped her bare. 

—

The strong hands on her were wonderful, but soon she wanted more from them. She reached down for one of his hands, taking hold of it and slipping it down between them so he could rub her where she needed it. She was still incredibly sensitive from the first time he’d gotten her off and she craved even more.

\---

He had to pause to adjust to the change in position. He relied even more heavily on the wall when he wasn’t using both arms to hold her, but he made it work. She’d proven to be a greedy girl and her enthusiasm excited him, so he was eager to touch her. He worked with her steadily, taking his time with both his hips and his fingers. The time they had was limited, but he wanted to stretch it out as long as they could get away with.

\---

That was what she needed and she used his mouth to muffle the moan he pulled from her. She was writhing against the wall, lost in the pleasure he gave her inside and out. He was intoxicating and for the moment, the security waiting on her outside was the farthest thing from her mind. 

\---

He couldn’t help but be proud of what he was doing to her. What he was drawing from her. “My name,” he coaxed against her lips, wondering if this time she would give him what he wanted. If he’d worked her well enough to forget herself and let his name fall from her lips.

\---

She would have smiled if her mouth wasn't so busy. "Gabriel…" His name came out in a breathy whisper and her head tipped back, her back arching as the tension in her mounted. 

\---

He laughed, her stubbornness more amusing than irritating in the heat of the moment. Since she opened up her neck to him, he started to run his lips along it. So often his fingers had sought it, but this was a solid alternative and entirely not without threat. He bit down on her pulse point, letting his tongue record the rhythm of her heart.

\---

That laugh got her heart racing, but not as much as his teeth did. She knew how much he could hurt her if he really bit down there. She knew how much he might _want_ to do it - she couldn't cry for help, not compromised as she was right now. But she trusted him and she trembled, but it was more in pleasure than fear. 

\---

He enjoyed how helpless she was. He could do anything to her and she couldn’t stop him. That was enough. He didn’t need to hurt her or put her in her place, he simply needed to know that he could. She had submitted to him and that made this cage of his bearable. He needed control and she was offering it and more to him on a silver platter. 

He was starting to fuck her faster. Still holding himself back, frustratingly, but risking soft smacks of their skin. The sound didn’t seem enough to slip out of his cell, to arouse suspicion, but it was still more than he’d tempted fate with last time.

\---

The added speed had her shaking wildly and she clamped a hand over her mouth to keep quiet. What little sound did escape her was incredibly needy and her back arched sharply as the tension in her threatened to snap. 

\---

He let go of her neck, his head tipping back as he listened to her whimpers. “Fuck,” he hissed, his cock throbbing as he struggled to hold it together. It took everything in him to not simply lay into her. He tried to focus on his fingers, as it was the only distraction keeping him tethered. 

\---

It was all too much for her and she bit down on her fingers to silence her cry of relief when she fell apart. Her hips rocked desperately as she came, her muscles gripping him fiercely as she rode out her pleasure on him. 

\---

And that was all too much for him. His eyes rolled back as she worked herself through her release on his cock. He rewarded her by filling her up, his body stuttering and fingers stiffening. He’d stopped breathing, choking on the sounds that wanted to escape him. Much like before, when he came to a stop, he held her still, their bodies connected.

\---

When both of them were still, her legs tightened around him even more. She didn't want him to put her down. In the afterglow of her pleasure, she draped an arm around his shoulders, the fingers of her other hand stroking through his hair. "Gabriel…"

\---

He slipped his hand around her, so he was supporting her securely once more. His eyes opened and he looked at her, a storm behind them . Like this, the name didn’t upset him as much as it normally would. In fact, like this… it felt intimate.

\---

She couldn’t help the little shiver she felt when their eyes met. How did he have so much power over her just in the way he looked at her? Her fingers massaged his scalp slowly, much as she had while he'd been licking her. 

\---

The fingers felt heavenly and for a while he simply savored the feel of them. He ended up trading hands, the one that had been supporting her all this time lifting so he could touch her in turn. His finger traced her jawline, his thumb her lips.

\---

When his thumb crossed her lips, she pressed a soft kiss to it. She was growing more aware of how much time they'd spent together already and that they would have to wrap up soon, but she didn’t want to. "I wish I could take you to bed with me tonight…" She'd be thinking of him, at least. 

\---

The corners of his lips lifted. His thumb pressed ever so slightly into her mouth, brushing her teeth, then it slipped out, trailing down the middle of her lip. “Me too.” He’d give just about anything to leave his cell and shut himself away with her.

\---

"I might not be able to get you into my bedroom, but I'm working on getting you out of this cell for a walk once in a while." It wouldn’t be as good as what they could do together in this small, steamy nook, but a change of scenery would do him good. 

\---

“You’re clever,” he challenged her, his lips turning up further into a smirk. “I’m sure you could find a way.” He leaned in and kissed her lightly. “If you can get me out of here for a walk, you can get me into your bedroom.” Probably not, but it was worth encouraging her even so. 

\---

"I'll try." It was doubtful they'd ever get anywhere near her bed, but it was a nice thought. She stole a kiss of her own. "If we don't make it to my room, maybe we can sneak away on our walk…"

\---

He kissed her again, lingering a little longer. “I’d like that…” That she was even considering such things with him was extremely encouraging. “Maybe you can wear something sexy then too.” He was a fan of the tank top and shorts combo and he nodded down to her abandoned clothing.

\---

“You don’t find me sexy in my scrubs?” She asked with an amused little smirk. “What would you like to see me in?” Something that showed a lot of leg, probably. She saw the way he eyed them when she came in for these exams.

\---

“No, they’re sexy too.” In their own way. Fucking his dcotor was appealing and having her dressed up and looking the part was even better. “But I like it when you show a little more…” That was what he wanted. For her to wear something revealing. Something like, well, something like what Widowmaker would wear.

\---

“I have a few sexy things I could wear. I wonder if security would find it out of place if I turned up in a short little dress?” Maybe she could get away with a casual summer dress she owned. 

\---

He smiled, but a moment later, his expression turned more thoughtful. “...Could I get my clothing back? My mask too?” Not that it was really clothing, so to speak. It was more like armor. He’d prefer it to what he was currently wearing, even if what he was currently wearing was technically more comfortable. Looser and more breathable. 

\---

"I'll ask for you." As far as she knew, they'd found nothing dangerous in his clothing and it was simply being stored. She knew she needed to get dressed, but she tightened the arms around his shoulders briefly, wrapping him up in a proper embrace. 

\---

He nodded, sinking into her as he continued to consider her. “You’re not what I thought you were.” Even back then. He wouldn’t have expected any of this from her. In a lot of ways she hadn’t changed and that helped him to trust her. It seemed almost a little silly to him now, how much he’d convinced himself that she was ill intentioned. Back then, he wouldn’t have thought her capable of such a thing. It seemed that hadn’t changed, but she was proving to be an extraordinarily passionate woman.

\--- 

She pulled back a little to look at him, her eyes soft. "Thank you for giving me a chance to show you." He didn't have to trust her at all. He could still be hostile, but instead he'd decided to be receptive to her and now…things were different. 

\---

“You didn’t really give me a choice.” There was amusement in his voice, her stubbornness simultaneously one of the most annoying things about her. “Abducted me, remember?” In a genuine attempt to save him from himself. He still didn’t understand why she cared so much. She told him it was because he mattered, but that didn’t really explain much of anything.

\---

"You do have a point." He would never have willingly let her work with him. He would have filled her with lead the moment he saw her if the trap hadn't worked as she hoped. "But I'm still grateful that we're here now. That you let me take your pain away."

\---

There was something strange in his eyes. She’d taken away his physical pain, but there was a lot more to pain than that. He hummed and answered with a kiss, since there was nothing he could say. He slowly eased off of the wall, allowing her the room she needed to unattach from him and find her feet.

\---

She kissed him back, letting it linger even after he moved away from the wall. Finally, she broke it and reluctantly eased her arms and legs from him until she was back on her feet. She took his hand and tugged him toward the water. "We need to at least get you wet or we'll raise some eyebrows when we go out there."

\---

He followed her, stepping into the water. This time it felt like nothing. Just warm water on his skin. It was incredible, really, and he tugged her in himself. She’d gotten wet last time. It wouldn’t be a surprise if she got wet again and he assumed she did genuinely want to examine his wounds. 

\--- 

She smiled when he tugged her in with him. She released his hand and started to rub his shoulders, this time not at all changing the pressure when her fingers found his wounds. "Do they hurt at all?"

\---

“No.” It felt like they weren’t there at all. “You can be rougher,” he told her and by way of demonstration, he dug his fingers harshly into one of the wounds on his side. He’d tested them himself, so he knew what he could handle. He ended up tearing the skin a little at the edge of the wound and blood bloomed, but he didn’t react to it. 

\--- 

"Gabriel…" She frowned and pressed her fingers protectively to the new tear in his skin. She knew it wasn't needed - it would stop bleeding on its own quickly. But she couldn't resist her instincts. "I need to figure out how to mend these. The skin around them rips so easily…" She was mostly thinking aloud. 

\---

He smiled when she fussed. It wasn’t necessary, but of course she would fuss. “I still don’t think you can, doc, but… you’re welcome to try.” He would still struggle with it, but so far, he liked what she’d done. If she could get rid of the wounds, it would be a vulnerability erased. His only concern was that it would introduce another, greater vulnerability.

\---

Her eyes raised to his, wide and hopeful. "...You'll let me try?" They'd just finished his second procedure. She had planned to give him time to recover before she even delicately approached the subject of trying anything else. 

\---

“Don’t sound so surprised.” He’d already agreed to letting her try, but he’d been so… anxious about it that he wasn’t surprised by her surprise. He’d been so reluctant to let her do anything to him, even after agreeing. “They won’t hurt like last time.” When he’d woken up in agony.

\---

"You're right, they won't." Her heart was pounding and she forgot his bleeding for a moment, instead using both hands to cup his cheeks as she had earlier while they kissed. "How soon will you let me try?"

\---

The question put him on edge. Even after what he’s said, the idea that she could come in tomorrow to work on him made his stomach twist. He swallowed it down. “Soon,” he answered, his heart starting to pick up. “After I get my clothes?” He didn’t have any leverage over that, but it seemed like a nice trade to him.

\---

That sobered her a little and she nodded. It had been too much to hope he'd let her do it right away. "Okay. I'll see what I can do." She kissed his lips softly, then released him to grab her clothes. 

\---

He watched her and since it seemed they were done, he turned off the shower. He reached for his pants and this time they weren’t really wet, so it wasn’t as difficult for him to tug them on. 

\---

She felt a little better when she was dressed, knowing that if anyone poke their heads in she was now covered. She considered a way to sweeten the offer and the corners of her lips turned up. "After the next procedure, you'd need close monitoring. Maybe I'd need to spend the night in here with you." It was a stretch, but she was sure she could make it happen. 

\---

He chuckled under his breath. “Bunk’s pretty small for two.” He knew that wasn’t what the arrangement would be, but it was a nice thought. It hit him a moment later that he genuinely liked the thought. When was the last time he’d wanted to be close to anyone at length?

\---

"We'd come up with something." Hopefully it made the thought of another project a little more welcome. "I guess I better get going." She'd been in there too long already. 

\---

She should and it seemed he was going to let her, but then he suddenly went after her. He grabbed her from behind and pulled her back against him. “I don’t want you to,” he admitted, even if he knew it wouldn’t change anything. 

\---

Mercy felt her heart give a little skip and she leaned back into him. He wanted her to stay, even though he'd already taken his pleasure in her. She stroked her fingers lightly over one of the arms around her. "I wish I could stay." 

\---

He held her tightly, unwilling to let her go. He needed to and he would, he was simply trying to hold on for as long as he could.. He hated that he couldn’t do what he wanted and that made him want it even more. There was a limit to what he could have. He couldn’t simply reach out and take it. He had to be content with what was offered to him and that wasn’t something he did well with. 

\---

As much as she needed to go, she did nothing to imply she wanted him to release her. She leaned into him and closed her eyes, relaxed in the strong arms that used to frighten her. Her fingertips absently traced over his arm. 

\---

The longer they delayed, the longer the shower had been off. The less of an excuse they had. So, finally, with reluctance, he let go of her. It would be a while before he’d have time with her, but… it didn’t matter. What mattered was how receptive she was to him. He didn’t want her, she wanted him. That was what he told himself.

\---

When she was free, she turned to face him. She gave him a brief, but passionate kiss. "I'll see if I can get your clothes to you in the next day or so." Then they could talk about the next procedure. 

\---

He returned the kiss for as long as it lasted and when it broke, he gave her a final look. “Sounds good, doc.” His eyes flicked between hers and then he led the way out of his ‘bathroom’. He looked over at the security detail standing nearby and smirked as he reached for the rest of his clothing to pull it on.

\---

She left his cell as casually as she could. She had so much other work to do, but she was going to have to figure out how to mend his wounds. If she could get his clothes back, she might have a chance at attempting it before the week was out. She gave the man behind the bars a final glance, a little smile on her lips, then started out. 

\---

He watched her go and when she was gone, he was left by himself. With a sigh, he went to grab his cards. He had a lot to mull over, but it wouldn’t be long before the hours turned oppressive. Best to distract himself as much as he could until she returned to him.


	34. Chapter 34

That night Mercy writhed restlessly beneath her sheets, thinking of the man who had taken her earlier that day. Her fingers worked her clit feverishly, imagining it was the skillful tongue that had lapped at her. Her other hand squeezed her tit, imagining it was the larger, stronger hands that had been all over her. 

It took two orgasms to settle her down enough for sleep and when she did, she wrapped her arms around her pillow, imagining she could rest against his chest. She smirked when she remembered him asking if she dreamt of him. If he only knew the way he'd been dominating her thoughts lately. It was getting a little out of hand, but she didn’t mind. It wasn't interfering with her work. If anything, she was all the more invested in healing him, mind and body. 

She closed her eyes and breathed a soft, weary sigh. She'd do the next procedure soon and then...maybe she'd find a way to spend the night with him. It was a pleasant thought and she drifted off to sleep with a slight smile on her lips. 


	35. Chapter 35

At this point, waking from anesthesia was as familiar as waking up normally. Strangely, it took a lot more out of him this time, though, and as Reaper started to shift, he seemed like he was still out of it. His eyes cracked and he winced at the light, but it seemed he wasn’t seeing anything. He made a sound, as if trying to speak, but whatever it was, it wasn’t comprehensible and he gave up before he got anything out.

\---

He was finally starting to stir. Mercy had done extensive work on him that day and it was no surprise that he was groggy and struggling to wake. "Take your time." She murmured, leaning forward to touch his hand lightly. It was still strange that his hand was a little warm. 

\---

He moved as if to pull his hand from hers, but was too weak to do so. He looked toward the sound of her voice and when he saw her, there was a delay before recognition hit him. When it did, he smiled. He stared at her and when he tried to speak this time, he managed. “You’re stupid,” he pointed out, slurring, that silly smile lingering on his lips. “But pretty.”

\---

His smile was so different now with his lip intact. She snorted. "That's not very nice." Maybe he wouldn't think she was so stupid once he saw how much progress she’d made. 

\---

“I’m not nice,” he agreed, his eyes moving away from her and up at the concrete ceiling. His smile faded when he was no longer looking at her and he looked more pensive... or confused. Some mix of the two.

\---

"Would you like some water?" She asked as she watched him. He probably needed to eat also - or his equivalent of eating - but he should start with some hydration. 

\---

He shook his head, not really internalizing the question. He _was_ thirsty, but he was still out of it, though the longer he stared up, the more and more his eyes were focusing. The more and more his mind unfogged.

\--- 

That was alright, it could wait until he was ready. She released her hold on him and sat back, giving him some space. She wondered what he would think once he saw himself in the mirror. 

\---

After a while, his head turned again and he looked at her. Again, recognition filled his eyes, as if he hadn’t already seen her, but his reaction wasn’t as candid. “...Am I okay?” He’d never woken to her sitting with him, so maybe something had gone wrong.

\---

The question surprised her and her brows raised a little, but she nodded. "Yes. I think you're going to feel better than okay. But first you have to wake up and have a little water."

\---

He looked down at himself. He was wearing a surgical gown, which was a drastic, but necessary downgrade from his clothing. He’d felt more like himself once he’d had his armor and his mask back, even if he was missing the more dangerous parts of his outfit. His gauntlets. His boots. He obviously couldn’t wear his things into surgery, so off they were, but the garment didn’t hold his attention long. Instead, he gawked at his arm. More specifically, at one of the wounds on his arm.

It looked… different. Not just the wound itself, but the skin around it. The tear was shallower, but that wasn’t nearly as striking as the color of his skin. No longer deathly grey, but warm… Not what it used to be, though the memory of what it used to be was so distant that he could be convinced that this _was_ the color it used to be. 

\---

"A little better, no?" Not healed, but better. There was more than a small amount of pride in her voice. It was much more than Moira had accomplished and it was only her third attempt. 

\---

He was confused by it. He wasn’t sure if it was simply the dregs of whatever was in his system, but he was struggling to comprehend what he was seeing. He looked up at her. “What…?” How had she done that? He’d known she was going to try to heal his wounds, but how had she changed his skin? What did that mean? Would he bleed like he used to?

\---

"You're warmer. It's not a natural body temperature, but it's closer." If she repeated the process when his body was ready for another ordeal like this, he might have a normal temperature. 

\---

He stared at himself a little longer and then pushed himself up. It was too much too quickly, but he caught himself and after a beat, was able to look at himself properly. His wounds looked different. All of them looked… less. Another thought occurred to him and he lifted a hand to touch his lip, his eyes widening slightly when he felt the flesh where there was supposed to be none. She’d mentioned meaning to fix it, but feeling the result was bizarre.

\---

She smiled as she watched him examine her work. She bent to pick a water bottle up from the floor and offered it to him. "Have some. Please."

\---

Finally, he looked at her again. He didn’t know what to say and there was a sickness in his stomach. If she’d done all of this… what did that mean for his abilities? He forced himself to take a breath. He’d already accepted he was risking them to let her heal him, he just had to swallow the fact that it seemed she could really make him better… and take them away. He took the water from her and opened it to take a deep drink. 

“...Seems like you did a lot, doc.” 

\---

"See? I'm not that stupid." She said softly as she watched him. She could see that he looked a little uneasy. Maybe he wasn't entirely pleased with her work. 

\---

At first he simply looked uncertain, not remembering the first words that had fallen out of his mouth when he’d woken. Then it seemed to hit him and he flushed slightly. He hummed and looked past her at the men watching them. “...I’m going to get dressed.” He didn’t want to stay in this shit excuse for clothing longer than he had to. He pushed himself to his feet and started toward the nook, where he’d stripped out of his clothing earlier that day.

\---

"Go ahead." She said, though he was already on his way. "I have a body for you and some more water for you to drink when you're ready." She'd like to see him have some nourishment after all she'd done. 

\---

From where she was sitting, she was the only one that would see him naked, but he didn’t mind that. He stripped out of the gown and started to pull on his things. They were much tighter and form fitting than the light fabric she'd dressed him in before, but they felt like a second skin to him, he was so used to wearing them. More comfortable, even if they technically weren’t. He went so far as to put his cloak back on, but he left the mask off for now. If he was going to feed, it was easier to do it without it, though the difference was marginal.

\---

With everything back on him, it was hard to tell she'd done anything to him at all. She waited in her seat, wondering if he was upset with her. If he didn't like just how much she'd changed. 

\---

When he returned, he felt… somewhat better. He looked at her, still finding it odd that she was with him. He didn’t mind, far from it, it just wasn’t usual. “You have someone for me?” He was curious who it was this time. 

\---

"Yes…" She nodded toward a vaguely human shape in front of the bars covered by a tarp. "A body donated to me for research. I decided it was better for this purpose." Technically it was part of her research. 

\---

His eyes went to the men standing nearby and he sighed to himself. It wasn’t as if the cameras had caught it before. He made his way over to where the body was laying. He reached between the bars and tugged the tarp off, eyeing his ‘meal’. It wasn’t as fresh as what he preferred, but it really didn’t matter, apart from providing a little less energy as it naturally rotted. He pulled it up much the same way he had when Soldier 76 had wanted to watch and he held it in front of him.

The difference was this time nothing happened. For a moment he simply stood there. This was… disconcertingly familiar. Like when he’d tried to escape the trap that had put him in this mess in the first place and nothing happened. It hit him in the gut the same way it had then and he dropped the body, turning to look at her.

“What did you do?” he demanded, panic touching his tone. If he couldn’t do this, how was he supposed to…?

\---

The body wasn't a husk when he dropped it and the alarm in his voice had her raising from her seat. She still kept distance between them. "I didn't think I'd gotten this far. If you can't feed that way, I think you're ready to try food again. Just a light meal, in case it disagrees with your stomach."

\---

He looked so confused. Food? He was supposed to eat _food_ now? He stood there, lost, but eventually nodded stiffly. “Fine.” What if the food still rotted? What would happen? Was it even possible for him to starve to death? He’d never let it get that far to see, so he didn’t know what would happen if he couldn’t feed _or_ eat.

\---

"What sounds good to you?" She sounded optimistic, but she was cautious. He was still upset. "This is your first meal in a long time. You should get to choose it."

\---

He wasn’t convinced and so he, completely skeptical, answered with a shrug. “Pizza.” They’d already talked about this, why would he choose anything else? His mind was still on the worst case scenario, certain that he would not be able to eat anything she put in front of him.

\---

She couldn’t help but smile. It wasn’t a light meal, but she wasn’t about to deny him. "Buffalo wing pizza? And a beer?" 

\---

His brows lifted and finally, he softened a little. That she remembered the pizza was one thing, but in the back of his mind, he’d craved a beer to go along with it. He nodded, moving away from the bars and the body. If he couldn’t take what he needed from it, he wasn’t interested in it. 

\---

She looked to the men outside the bars. "I'm going to stay in here. Please have that brought to us as soon as possible. ...A beer for me also." She'd earned it and they could celebrate together with a drink. 

\---

He moved back to her, sitting down on the edge of his bunk. “Can you explain it to me?” If she was staying, she had time. He wanted to know what it was she’d done. With Moira he’d gotten answers, but he wasn’t a geneticist and he could never completely grasp what she’d done to him. He’d gotten the layman’s explanation, but it was enough for him to have an idea. Along with the idea was that he _needed_ to be the way - that there was no fixing him.

\---

"Of course." She wasn’t sure how well she could explain it, but he deserved to know what she'd done. She sat back down. "Your cellular structure is extremely unstable. It's that way by design, but Dr. O’Deorain had to take it to an extreme when she saved your life. That's why no conventional healing can close your wounds, but I managed to provide some stability to your body on a cellular level. I have a ways to go, but if I continue this therapy, I believe I can get you back to where you were before the explosion." Even if she couldn't reverse things completely, she thought she could have him returned to that mild state of instability at least. 

\---

He nodded. That made sense to him and it lined up with what he knew. “You don’t think your… therapy will completely stabilize me?” That was what he wanted to hear. If she could genuinely take him back to before the explosion and stop there, well, he’d owe her. He’d owe her a lot, but he was still wary that by the end of this, he’d be back at the beginning. The very beginning. At a place that he’d thought of often over the years, but that would ultimately ruin him. He _needed_ to be Reaper and without his abilities… 

He took a breath. Either way, there was always Moira. 

\---

"I...don’t think so." It was possible, but, "I'm not trying to take anything from you. I only want to mend your wounds and perhaps let you enjoy pizza again."

\---

He looked skeptical. “You sure about that? It’d be a lot easier to get me out of here if I wasn’t a threat anymore.” Not that he was incapable without his abilities. He’d made it through the entire Omnic Crisis without them. Still, if he wasn’t _so_ dangerous, she’d have an easier time convincing them to let him go. He wanted to know if that was really what she really wanted, even if she wouldn’t admit it.

\---

She gave him a shrug. "It probably would be, but I think I can get you out either way." She just had to convince him he didn't need to hunt Overwatch, which was no small task. 

\---

His expression didn’t change and he answered with a simple ‘hmph’. He looked back down at his arms and hands - the only thing revealed while he was clothed - taking in the wounds and his skin. It was so strange and he seemed fascinated by what he saw. He tried to feel for a temperature difference, but since he was touching himself, it was a little hard to tell.

\---

She watched him, curious what he was thinking as he inspected himself. The quiet was broken when a man came in with their food. She met him at the bars, bringing in the box of pizza and setting it on the bunk beside Reaper. Then she got tall plastic cups for each of them filled with beer and she offered him one when she returned to him. 

\---

He could smell the pizza as soon as it was brought into the room. It was nothing new. He was used to smelling food that he couldn’t have, even if it soured his mood. He didn’t move to open the box, knowing what would likely happen if he got too close. He took the cup from her, but was uncertain of it. The whiskey would be a safer bet, but… a beer did sound better. 

“...Can you get me a slice?” If she was wrong and he got too close to the pizza, he’d spoil the entire thing. He may as well only spoil a single slice. Then at least she could try it.

\---

She was perplexed, but didn’t question him. She didn't realize that previously he would have made the entire pizza rot. She opened the box, inhaling the sweet, spicy smell of the wing sauce. She pulled out a slice and offered it to him. "It's still a little hot…"

\---

He was at the height of his skepticism as he took the slice from her. He held it up and waited… but nothing happened. With a thumping heart, he lifted it closer to his face, expecting it to start to change before his eyes, but it stayed as it was. Warm, steaming, and smelling incredible. His expression started to shift and with extreme tentativeness, he lifted it to his mouth. 

He seemed reluctant to take a bite, but he eased it into his mouth and as soon as his teeth closed on it, he made sound. It was almost pained, but then he was immediately taking another bite, groaning as he tasted his first food in years. 

\---

She watched him, beaming as he ate. Whether or not he could keep it down would be the next test, but right now she was thrilled he was eating. "Wunderbar! Now try the beer!" She urged him.

\---

After not having eaten in so long, he was a little awkward about it. His chewing was off. He heard her, but he was too busy working on the pizza to pause long enough to drink. The flavor was overwhelming, even as someone that had always enjoyed something spicy. Eventually he did take a swig of the beer to help him wash down what he had in his mouth - that too lacked grace, having gotten used to drinking with a giant chunk of his lip missing - but then he was right back to it. 

It took but a minute for him to finish it and when he was done, he felt painfully full. His stomach was not used to having anything in it and even that much was more than he could handle. He set his hand on it as it cramped, feeling unwell. 

\---

Her enthusiasm waned and she frowned. "Are you alright?" It would probably take his digestive system a little bit to adjust. She didn’t wait for an answer, she moved to sit beside him on the cot and settled her stethoscope into her ears. "Pull your shirt up, please."

\---

He looked at her, bemused. He couldn’t exactly just tug it up, but since she wanted access, he worked it off. He looked a little silly in only his pants and his cloak, but he was comfortable enough. “I’m alright. I think.” He felt sick, but that wasn’t really a surprise. Mostly he was shocked that he was able to eat it at all. 

\---

She pressed the metal of her stethoscope to his stomach, pressing firmly and listening in a few different spots. When she was satisfied, she sat back and hung the stethoscope around her neck again. "You are. You'll have a little discomfort until your stomach breaks it down, but your bowel sounds are good. I don’t think you'll have any trouble digesting that."

\---

He nodded and took another sip of beer in an attempt to settle his stomach, but a moment later, his expression shifted. It filled with alarm and after setting his drink down, he shot towards the nook. He immediately bent over the toilet and released everything he’d eaten into it.

\---

She cringed when she heard him vomit. So something light probably would have been better. She stood to hand the pizza box back to the men on the other side of the bars, not wanting the smell to make him any more sick. 

\---

He groaned, this time miserably, as he emptied his stomach. When he’d stopped heaving, he shifted back and wiped his lips with the back of his hand. “...Fuck.” He’d forgotten how shitty that was. He rose to his feet and flushed the toilet. There was no sink in his bathroom, only the toilet and the shower, so he had nothing to rinse his mouth out with. He ended up grabbing a water bottle to do so, spitting it out into the toilet as well. 

When he finally turned and saw that the pizza was gone, he frowned. “...You didn’t have to get rid of it.” He didn’t want any more himself, but… The thought trailed off as he realized she probably didn’t have much of an appetite after watching him vomit.

\---

"I don't want the smell to bother you." She would have happily had a piece with him, but it wasn’t that appealing now. "We'll give you some time to settle, then try a lighter meal. I'm confident you can digest it if you don't overeat."

\---

He returned to the bunk, sitting back down. “It was good.” He wished he hadn’t puked, but it was hard for him to regret it. It was what he’d wanted and it had been as good as he remembered. So good it bordered emotional. He picked up the beer and looked down on it… It wasn’t as appealing either, but he still lifted it to his lips and took another, smaller sip. “I can’t believe I could eat it…”

\---

"I'm sorry you didn't get to enjoy it longer. You will soon, though. Then you can have all the pizza you want." She sat back down across from him with an apologetic smile. 

\---

“It’s not your fault.” It sort of was, he supposed, but only in that she’d fixed him. She’d made it so that he could eat it, even if his body wasn’t ready for it. He looked at her and he didn’t know what to say. What to think. It was overwhelming and he was struggling, so he busied himself with his beer. He had a feeling that this wouldn’t make him sick. At least, not for the same reason it would have before. 

\---

She sipped at her beer, studying him. He didn’t seem angry with her, so that was promising. Hopefully the beer wouldn't make him sick too, but she wasn’t going to take it from him either way. "Other than your upset stomach, how are you feeling?"

\---

“I don’t know.” He was sure she simply meant physically, but the answer was truthful either way. He remembered his state and he set the beer aside to put his top back on. “It’s a lot.” 

\---

She had hardly noticed he was still walking around half-dressed. It was fortunate security couldn't really see her face at the angle she was sitting because she wasn't shy about looking him over as he dressed. "It is. More than I intended for today, to be honest, but it's good progress."

\---

He looked at her and, remembering what she’d said, he straightened slightly. “Are you staying, then?” She’d said she’d stay the night with him after and even though he doubted he needed her to watch over him, it was the excuse. He wasn’t really in the proper mood to appreciate her being here, but as everything settled, that would undoubtedly change.

\---

"Oh, yes. Especially now that you've been sick. I need to be right at your side in case you need anything." Her eyes were soft as she looked up to him. "...Unless you want me to go. I put you through a lot today."

\---

He met her eyes a little longer and then they dropped. He reached for his mask and slipped it into place. An easy way for him to hide himself. “You can stay.” 

\---

She missed the mask she'd found for him. With that one, she could see his eyes. "They'll bring in a second cot for me. I hope you don't mind if it's up against yours. I need to be within your reach in case you need to wake me right away." It was the bullshit reason she'd come up with, anyway. 

\---

Beneath his mask, his lips quirked. “Did anyone actually buy that?” he questioned under his breath. It was absolute bullshit, but in this scenario of hers, it was nice to be such an important patient to his doctor. That she’d sleep at his side to make sure he was okay. 

\---

She smiled a little sheepishly and gave him a little shrug. "Does it matter? This is _my_ medical ward." She was used to having her way here, but she was well aware that keeping an enemy for a patient had her under more scrutiny than usual.

\---

He hummed. “If Morrison finds out, he might really try to make my life hell.” Lucky for her, he didn’t give a shit what he tried to do. “More than he already has, anyway.” He would love to see the look on his face if he knew he was fucking the beautiful doctor.

\---

Her brows first and she shook her head. "I'll let him do no such thing. It isn't his concern." But she knew he'd be _very_ concerned just the same. 

\---

“If you’re certain.” So far, she’d gotten away with a lot in regards to him, so he was trusting her ability to keep them out of too much trouble. “...Who _do_ you talk to?” He didn’t know who her friends were these days. He didn’t really know what the dynamic was like around here after all was said and done. 

\---

"Genji. Usually Jesse, but he's been a little distant lately. Torbjörn, but he's wrapped up in his own project right now." She realized her circle of friends was quite small and she gave him a solemn little smile. "I keep very busy here. I don’t make much time for a social life."

\---

That was interesting. She was friendly with everyone from Blackwatch it seemed. Genji… He hadn’t seen him since then. Between him and McCree, he wasn’t surprised McCree was the one that had stopped in. The mention of Torbjörn made his lips set. There was a pause and then he spoke quietly. “I was going to kill him. Torbjörn.”

\---

It wasn’t news, but it was a little surprising that he admitted it. She lowered her eyes. "...I know. If he hadn’t been sick that day, you would have." It had expedited the trap Reaper had fallen into. The attempt on Torbjörn's life had made his capture a top priority. 

\---

“I would have,” he agreed, his voice matter of fact. “I suppose you wouldn’t be in here if I had.” Or maybe she would. He’d killed plenty of people in Overwatch already. Just none of her personal friends, as far as he was aware. 

\---

"I would still be here. Heartbroken, but here." She sipped her beer, still not looking at him. "This would still be the right thing to do. No matter who you've killed."

\---

He watched her and, after a while, he slid his foot across the floor so it rested against hers. There wasn’t anything he could say, because the truth was what it was. He would have killed him and he did not regret that. He would still kill him. For her to say that she would still be here, however, that did mean something. What, he didn’t know.

\---

The touch was unexpected and it softened her a little. She brushed her foot lightly against his and finally met his gaze. She knew he still wanted to kill Torbjörn. Probably most of Overwatch. But she really didn't think he wanted to kill her anymore.

\---

“So you need more friends.” He was bringing back the topic to what it had been before he’d derailed it. Actually, he’d prefer that she not have friends. It was easier for him to get closer to her if there weren’t others to convince her to stay away from him.

\---

"I've made it this far with a few friends. I'm sure it will stay that way." Especially if his intention was still to murder all of her friends. 

\---

“Then why do you seem so… sad about it?” He was not the type to inquire about others’ emotions, so he was as awkward as he felt about it. She’d looked sad when she’d talked about how busy she was and how she didn’t have time for friends.

\---

"I'd like to have more time to be a better friend, but I love my work and it takes up nearly all of my time." She gave him a little smile. "If I could create more hours in a day, maybe I could do both."

\---

“Is that what I am?” Was he work to her? Or had he been promoted to ‘friend’? He doubted it. Maybe that was why she was so invested in him. He was a project and she wanted to fix him so much that she was pouring not only her time, but herself into him.

\---

"My relationship with you is unique. ...You're both." The look she gave him was warm. He was her work, her most important project at the moment. But they had bonded, at least she liked to think so. 

\---

She used that word with him a lot. Unique. “You consider me a friend?” He pressed, curious if she would leave it at that or imply more. What they were doing didn’t have to mean anything, but he wondered if to her it did. He wanted to get a more concrete idea of his hold on her.

\---

"Yes. I wouldn't blame you if you didn't feel the same way about me." She thought maybe he did though. Why else would he ask about having few friends making her sad if he didn’t care?

\---

This was the part where he was supposed to say something. He knew that, but… he was not the type of man _to_ say something. His eyes fell and he ended up staying silent. He didn’t know what she’d read into that, that it was potentially harming what he was trying to do, but even if he were being entirely genuine, this would be hard for him.

\--- 

"...It's okay." He was a prisoner here. It was hardly surprising that he was reluctant to discuss being friends with her. She drank the last of her beer and put the cup aside. 

\---

He made a sound and pulled his foot back in so it was no longer touching hers. At least he’d gotten an idea of where she stood and he could continue to work on it. He reached for his own beer and eased his mask up so he could finish it as well, before settling it back in place.

\---

"If you're feeling okay, I could give you some time alone to rest. I'll bring you something lighter to eat and have them move a cot in here for me for tonight." Maybe he needed a little space. She put him through a lot. 

\---

He gave a short nod. If she was suggesting it, it was for a reason. Anyway, he probably could use a little time to himself to think after waking in this state. 

\---

She rose from her seat, collecting their cups and starting out. "I'll see you soon." She thought he'd still want her to spend the night, even if he was a little withdrawn now. 

\---

He watched her go and when he was gone, he sighed to himself. He twisted to lay back and he folded his hands beneath his head, staring up at the ceiling. He had a lot to think about and, as she’d one reminded him, a lot of time to think about it.


	36. Chapter 36

When Mercy returned, it was with men that brought the extra cot, as promised. They had wanted Reaper sedated when they brought it in and after a heated argument, she decided she would pull it into the cell herself. She only asked that they got it as far as the bars. She had a covered bowl in her hands and she went to his cell door. "Do you still want me to come in with you tonight?" She asked by way of greeting. She sounded a little weary and flustered. 

\---

He looked over when she stepped in and his brows furrowed to see her state. He was uncertain of what was bothering her so his reply was a simple, “Uh, if you want to?” It probably would have been that anyway, but the implication would have been more in the affirmative.

\---

She waited for the cell door to open and went to him, offering him the bowl. "It's chicken and dumpling soup. It's still nice and warm. Not quite as good as pizza, but I think you’ll like it." Her voice was softer as she offered him the meal, seeming to relax a little once she was further away from the men that had followed her into the room. 

\---

He noticed the change and he looked past her as he sat up and took the bowl from her. “...Something wrong?” Maybe it had to do with her staying.

\---

"No, everything is fine. Just a little disagreement with security and people who don't make decisions around here." Jack. Of course word had gotten to Soldier 76 and he'd tried to intervene. "There's a spoon under the bowl cover. Try the soup, okay? I'm going to pull my cot in." Since apparently she wouldn't be getting any help from the staff. 

\---

He continued to watch her, but her answer was enough of one that he didn’t have to inquire further. He lifted the cover of the bowl and looked down at it uncertainly. He wasn’t so sure about it. It didn’t excite him the way the pizza had and after having vomited his last meal, he wasn’t keen on doing so again. 

\---

It was only a small portion of soup and she hoped it was mild enough that he could keep it down. She went back to the cell door and when it opened again, she grabbed her cot and tugged it inside. It wasn’t all that heavy, but it was awkward to pull in on her own. 

\---

He let her do it on her own, knowing that if he approached the cell doors while they were open, he’d draw a lot of attention that he wasn’t interested in having. Instead, he took off his mask and lifted the spoon to give the soup a stir, still half-expecting it to spoil as he lifted some to his mouth. With a final hesitance, he took a sip of the broth. 

Though it wasn’t nearly as tasty as the pizza, the fact of the matter was that he hadn’t tasted anything in so long and even the bland flavor was incredible and he made a savoring sound.

\---

She heard the sound he made and the corners of her lips turned up as she pulled the cot to rest beside his. "It's good, no? I order that on chilly days or if I've been sick."

\---

He glanced up at her and nodded, going for another spoonful. “It’s good.” He tried to get a little bit of chicken this time. It was really salty and hot and he was eager in the way he ate it. Not unlike the way he’d eaten the pizza. Little as there was, it was filling him up readily.

\---

Her cot wasn't flush against his when she finished, but it was close. Security was leaving, which was a little unusual as there was always at least one person around when she was inside the cell with him. She slipped off her shoes before she sat down on her cot, curling up to tuck her legs beneath her. "I tried to guess a good portion size for you. Don't feel like you have to eat it all if your stomach starts to hurt."

\---

He paused as they were left alone. “...Was that the disagreement?” He was extremely surprised they were being left alone. Closely monitored on the cameras, certainly, but left alone. 

\---

"That was the result of the disagreement. I don’t want them here." If this was all an act and Reaper meant to kill her, this was _very_ stupid. No one from the control room watching the cameras would be able to save her in time. But it was a point she intended to prove. They didn’t need to keep treating him like an animal. 

\---

Again, that told him enough. The disagreement was clearly about her staying with him and somehow rather than cow to them, she’d managed to kick everyone out. “They find you as annoying as I do.” This was said lightly and there was warmth in his expression.

\---

That made her smile and she shook her head. "I guess so. If I wasn't such a good doctor, no one would put up with me." She was as stubborn as a mule and always had been. "I wonder if Moira gets this much pushback in her medical ward."

\---

He gave his soup another stir. “Of course not.” The woman was brilliant and she flourished not only in Talon, but in Oasis. She’d gotten what she wanted from Overwatch and more. “She can do whatever she wants."

\---

"So she's told me. I can usually do whatever I want too, I'm not used to all these restrictions." But she'd never insisted on treating an extremely dangerous enemy to Overwatch before. She sighed and released her hair from its ponytail, shaking the blonde strands loose. 

\---

“You’ve spoken to her?” He supposed it wasn’t that surprising. Even if they were on opposing sides, neither of the women were the type to attack without cause. He finished his soup and like before, was uncomfortably full, but his stomach wasn’t cramping this time. Not as much, anyway. 

—

"We talk once in awhile." She doubted either Overwatch or Talon would be thrilled about their contact, infrequent as it was. Neither of them were especially loyal to their organizations and that made it possible for them to respect each other despite being on different sides. 

\---

“About what?” He set the bowl aside and put his mask on once more. He was more comfortable like that, even if the damage to his face wasn’t as gruesome with his lip restored. He hadn’t seen himself and so apart from the ease of eating and drinking, he forgot it was fixed. “I didn’t think you were fond of her.” A lot of people weren’t fond of her, especially in the scientific community. It was a good thing that she’d found her way to Oasis - it was the only place where her and her ideas were embraced fully.

\---

She had hoped he would leave the mask off since it was just the two of them, but she wasn’t surprised that he put it back on. "I'm not fond of her methods, but she's a genius. We talk about medicine and genetics. We work together, somewhat, indirectly. She would _love_ for me to come work for her. Can you imagine someone as annoying and stubborn as me trying to work with someone like her?" They'd mix like oil and water. She laid back on her cot and sighed. Maybe when she was younger. She was too set in her ways to work beneath anyone now. 

\---

He hummed. “I’m sure they’d welcome you in Oasis too.” If she wanted, she could probably get a post of her own. She wouldn’t have to work directly with anyone, if she didn’t want to. “If you ever wanted to get away from Overwatch…” There was approval in his voice.

He watched her lay and wished he could move from his cot to hers. He wouldn’t mind climbing right on top of her, but that wasn’t an option for obvious reasons. Instead, he decided he may as well lay down too and settled on his side, facing her and the cameras behind her.

\---

"If I wasn’t needed here, I would consider it." Her talents would be appreciated in Oasis, but lines didn’t exist there and she felt she could ultimately do the most good with Overwatch. She knew the camera angles well and she reached for his hand, knowing that even if they could see this contact, it was innocent enough. "How is your stomach?"

\---

She claimed not to care about Overwatch, but she clearly did. His eyes flicked down to her hand as it touched his and he let his fingers slide between hers. “Okay.” Uncomfortable, but not bad. He didn’t think he was going to puke, so that was a bonus.

\---

"Maybe when you've had a little time to digest, I'll examine you." He was probably tired and still sorting out his thoughts, so she doubted it would be one of their more enjoyable exams. But she wanted to make sure he was okay. 

\---

His brows lifted slightly, questioning, but he realized she wouldn’t be able to see. Instead, he brushed his thumb against her hand to try to pose the question that way. She either meant an exam or an _exam_ and he was interested in which she was getting at.

\---

Without seeing his face, it was hard to interpret his lack of response, but the touch was reassuring and she squeezed his hand lightly. "If you feel up to it. You've had a long day."

\---

“You can examine me…” He supposed he would find out. It was more likely the former than the latter, all things considered, but… maybe she had something up her sleeve.

\---

"When your stomach settles, we'll go to the shower then." She gave him a little smile, her heart beating faster. She could kiss him now that his lips were restored. When they got out, she wouldn’t have to leave. She could stay and spend the night with him. 

\---

His stomach tightened with anticipation. They hadn’t talked about another shower, so he hadn’t thought there would be one. It made sense - it was the only excuse they had to hide away and it was still valid, since his wounds were still exposed. Even so, he’d thought she’d simply stay with him tonight. Without the guards to stand by… Well, as long as they didn’t barge in, it didn’t really matter.

\---

She closed her eyes, deciding she would rest until he was ready. Without security, going to the nook with him was especially dangerous. It didn't matter to her. If he meant to hurt her, he was going to do it whether they were here or in the shower. The only difference would be how long it took them to realize she'd been killed.

\---

“You sure they won’t come in?” It was one thing if they were still on camera, but another if they were out of sight. If she really thought they’d stay away, then he had no issue with it. It was just so spur of the moment that he was a little wearier than usual.

\---

"I told them they weren't needed here tonight." She couldn't be sure, no, but she'd frustrated them enough that she didn't think they'd come in unless they were certain something bad was happening to her. 

\---

“...Then let’s go.” His stomach wasn’t settled, but he didn’t particularly care about that. He pushed himself up and started towards his bathroom, eager to have her to himself.

\---

She rose from the cot and slipped off her lab coat. She wasn’t concerned about anything he might pillage from it - she'd only brought along minimal first aid supplies in case he really did have any issues from the procedure. She would have preferred her nightgown over scrubs, but they were clean and at least not the ones she'd worked in all day. 

She followed him to the nook, chewing her lower lip in anticipation. She wanted to see him without the mask again and observe her work. 

\---

He turned to her and rather than grab her and shove into the wall again, he stood still. Waiting for her. He wanted to see what she would do if he left her to it. Maybe she would show some aggression, rather than the other way around. Or maybe she would stay gentle and simply touch him in all the right ways.

\---

She wasn't aggressive at all, instead approaching him with caution. The fact that he was fully dressed made her a bit uneasy - maybe he did mean to hurt her. But she trusted him, she _needed_ to trust him. 

When she was close enough, she reached up to touch his mask lightly. She tentatively began to lift it, asking silently to remove it. 

\---

Briefly, his mind went to Widowmaker. To the car. When she’d sat in his lap and touched it like this. Like then, he gave a little nod, permissing her to do what she silently asked. His own hands went to her hips and he held her there, his eyes on hers, but keeping an ear out for the sound of the door.

If they were going to storm in, he had a feeling it would be sooner, rather than later. 

\---

She pulled his mask away and let it fall away from them, her hands seeking his face. Her fingers ran over his lower lip, touching the faint seam that had yet to heal completely. "You look good. I need to bring a mirror in so you can see for yourself."

\---

“I prefer not to.” He had a complicated relationship with himself. He preferred himself as he was, but he would be lying to say some part of him didn’t mourn who he had been. There was no reminder of what had happened to him more stark than his appearance. He preferred to simply avoid looking at himself when he didn’t have to. 

“I’ll take your word for it.”

\---

Her eyes softened. Maybe she could do more to restore his appearance. Maybe he would want to see his reflection again if she did. She nodded and kissed his lips softly. "You look good." She repeated. 

\---

The kiss felt… strange. Good, but strange. He was surprised by the amount of sensation he had in the replacement. “If you say so, doc.” He leaned in and took a kiss for himself, refamiliarizing himself with her lips. They met so much more neatly now and finally, his teeth were left out of it. 

\---

She hummed softly against his lips. It was so much better with a full lower lip to press hers to. She was curious how it felt for him, but wasn't going to break the kiss to ask. Instead she pressed closer to him, her fingers settling on his hips. 

\---

He was tempted to take over, but he kept himself reined in. He was curious what she would do. If she would do anything or if he would have to take over. Either way, he didn’t care, he was simply curious.

\---

Eventually she broke the kiss and took a step back. She slipped off her scrub top, then popped the clasp of her bra to let her tits spill free. She dropped those garments to the floor, her eyes on him. Being near him was always intense, but something about seeing him in his proper clothes and cloak had her heart beating a little harder. 

\---

He looked down at her and then slid his arms around her, pulling her into him. “You look good too.” She did and he was sure she knew it - he was sure she’d had plenty of men tell her so throughout her life. He knew he wasn’t the only man here to admire her and, truthfully, he wouldn’t be surprised to learn that he wasn’t the only man here to have her.

\---

"You should have seen me a decade ago." She laughed softly, draping her arms around his shoulders. She had to stay very fit and she'd never had children, so her body was much better than it could be. Still, her tits were more perky in her twenties. 

\---

He chuckled and then, deciding it wouldn’t hurt to tell her the truth, answered, “I wanted to.” A decade ago, he’d wanted in her panties and back then… He’d looked a lot better too. He stroked his fingers over her back, feeling her skin. It was only then that it really hit him how warm he was. She wasn’t as warm to him and the only reason that could be was that he was warmer himself.

\---

“You should have told me then.” She had gotten used to his fingers being chilled and now they felt almost too warm as they trailed over her skin. “I would have taken you to bed back in those days too…” It wouldn’t have been so complicated then.

\---

His brows lifted and he looked surprised. “Thought you said this was a recent thing.” Even if he suspected her to have had other liaisons, he didn’t think she was so easy that she would sleep with just anyone. Even if all of this suggested otherwise. He was probably the worst person for her to sleep with, but here they were. 

\---

“It is. You didn’t show interest back then. If you had...well, you’re my type.” Tall, dark, strong, ...dangerous. She took one of his hands and moved it to one of her breasts. “I was demanding back then too.” She knew what she wanted and she wasn’t afraid to ask for it.

\---

He squeezed her, letting his thumb circle her nipple. “Then why didn’t _you_ show interest?” If she had, he wasn’t sure what would have happened. He’d wanted her, yes, but he’d also thought her too young for him. That was the reason he’d never shown his interest. He’d known her since she was a teen and even as she turned into a woman… it felt like a line better left uncrossed. 

\---

“I guess I’m not one to make the first move.” She pressed her chest into his hand, craving his touch. “I’m glad you did that night you gave me a back rub…” That had changed things for them and now they were indulging in each other again. 

\---

He hummed. He was too. The opportunity had fallen into his lap and it had progressed things to a place he hadn’t sure he’d be able to take it to otherwise. “...Did anyone else?” He couldn’t help but be curious. It was something he would have wanted to know back then, gossip for the sake of gossip. It seemed the conversation was waking that long lost side of him. 

\---

“Maybe…” She smirked up to him. “But you were the first in a long while. My work usually keeps my sex life limited.” She had needs to take care of, but it was something she usually satisfied on her own in the moments before falling asleep rather than seek out a partner to get off with.

\---

His brows raised further. “Go on. Who?” He wanted to know who it was. He had an idea, but he wasn’t really confident in it. His hand slid down her front and he started to push her bottoms down as well. Always eager to undress whoever he was with. Less eager to undress himself.

\---

“I don’t kiss and tell, Gabriel.” She teased, helping him to get her pants off. It appeared she’d planned for something like this as she wasn’t wearing any panties beneath her scrubs. “Who do you think it was?” Her amusement was clear in her smirk.

\---

As soon as he saw what she was missing it brought a smirk to his lips. “Why should I tell you if you won’t tell me?” His hands started to explore her bare skin. It felt like they had more time… but the truth was that they didn’t. Even whoever was watching assumed he was being examined, if they spent too long in the shower, someone would come sniffing around. 

\---

“I want to know who you think I’ve slept with.” She was bare and he was only missing his mask so her hands got to work on removing some of his layers as well. “I bet I know some people _you’ve_ taken to bed.” 

\---

She probably did. He’d never been one for relationships, but he’d still had needs and… there was no denying that he’d attracted people to him. “Alright. You tell me who you think I’ve slept with and I’ll tell you who I think you’ve slept with.” He absently helped her undress him, more intent on the conversation than what they were doing.

\---

“Moira.” She said it with no hesitation. Like Reaper, she was also...intense. There was something undeniably captivating about her and she could imagine the two of them being compatible, even if it was only lust. The cloak fell away and next she worked at his shirt.

\---

His smirk grew and that gave away the answer immediately. “Why so certain?” The complete lack of hesitation amused him. She was right. Before everything had gone to shit… they’d had fun a few times. After, not so much. Whatever spark there had been between them had faded. Whether that was his fault or hers, it was hard to say, but their fling was long over.

\---

“She’s alluring and you’ve spent a lot of time together.” She smiled as she tugged it away. “Apparently you like to take your doctors to bed, Gabriel.”

\---

He laughed. “I suppose so.” Since she was making steady work of his clothing, he resumed his touches. “So you think she’s alluring enough for me _and_ I’m alluring enough for her.” That was honestly a bit of a compliment. It was the truth, but the other doctor was a notoriously particular woman that knew what she wanted. The fact that she’d wanted him had flattered him and the fact that Mercy thought she’d wanted him flattered him too.

\---

“I do.” She thought Moira would find him just as attractive as she did. “I’m not going to lie to you, she’s almost alluring enough for me too. I’m not into women, but she’s come onto me before and...I thought about it.” Perhaps because she wasn’t especially feminine and there was always something a little predatory to it.

\---

He stopped and stared at her, his lips opening ever so slightly. “...Seriously?” He hadn’t known Moira was interested in women and the thought that they might have gotten hot and heavy... He flushed slightly. His cock stirred, but he shook his head to himself, stunned.

\---

“Seriously, but it didn’t happen.” She was sure he wasn’t the only person who would blush to imagine the two doctors going at it. She worked his pants down and as soon as she could, she took him in hand, stroking him slowly.

\---

“That’s a shame.” It would have amused him for the three of them to have all slept together, even separately. When she started to stroke him, he made an appreciative sound and started to walk them backwards. When he reached the wall, he turned on the shower and pulled her up off the floor, but only for as long as he needed to sit down on it so she could straddle his lap. 

\---

“You can pretend we did.” She settled onto his lap, grinding against him eagerly. “It might be sexier in your imagination than it would have been anyway.” 

\---

He rolled his hips up into hers, watching the way her body moved. It was the first time he’d given her room _to_ move. To be more active instead of simply taking what he had for her. “Hmm. Since I’ve had both, I think I have a pretty good idea of what it would have been like.” 

\---

“That’s true, you have insight few others would.” She moaned under her breath, the friction pleasant as their bodies rocked together. He knew better than she did how a night with Moira might have gone.

\---

His fingers stroked over her hips and her sides, sliding around to squeeze her ass. “So you said you think you know _some people_. Who else?” She’d been so confident and correct about Moira, he was interested in who else she thought he would have spent time with. 

\---

She had another good guess, but there was another one she was curious about first. “Sombra.” She was much too young for him, but that was hardly a deal-breaker. She could still see it happening.

\---

His brows rose. He’d thought she’d stick to people in Overwatch. People he might have shared a bed with in the past, not any time since. He made a face and shook his head. “No.” He was not interested in Sombra in the slightest and as far as he could tell, the feeling was mutual. Women weren’t really interested in him anymore, which was why it had been so long before he’d asked Widowmaker to help him out. “Why Sombra?” Did she know _anything_ about Sombra, or was she simply assuming because they worked together?

\---

“Why not? She’s cute, smart, ambitious. I could see it working.” Apparently she was wrong about that one. She looked at him thoughtfully, though her eyes were a little darker with lust the longer she rocked against him. “Okay, next one. I _know_ you’ve had sex with Widowmaker.” 

\---

He snorted, looking at her skeptically. “That’s what’s in her file?” The one Overwatch undoubtedly had on her. Cute, smart, and ambitious? He wasn’t sure where she was getting any of that from, but he saw her as nothing but an annoyance. An indispensable annoyance. 

As she went on, he studied her. Again, she wasn’t wrong, but her certainty was throwing him off. “It sounds like you’re simply assuming I’ve slept with every woman at Talon.”

\---

“No, she’s my last guess and I wouldn’t have guessed her if she hadn’t come swooping in here alone for you.” She was supposed to be incapable of feeling, as far as they knew, but it was hard to believe after what she’d seen with her own eyes.

\---

He sighed and rolled his eyes. “She wasn’t alone. There is no chance she was alone.” They’d missed something big if they thought she was alone. “Talon wouldn’t have sent her in alone and there is no way she would have come without orders.” It simply wasn’t how she worked. He gave her ass a harder squeeze and then slid his hands up to her hips, holding them so he could press more insistently against her. 

\---

“You should have seen it. She got farther than she should have on her own, but there was no backup, no lookout, no coordination. It was amazing she got out with the minor injuries she had.” She wasn’t supposed to be incapable of passion, she knew that, but it had looked like a decision made from passion.

\---

He paused in what he was doing. “...So you think, what, that we’re a thing? That she rushed in to save me because we have a relationship?” That sounded like what she was saying. “If that’s what you think, why are we here?” Why was she fucking him, if she thought he had something with someone else?

\---

She paused in what she was doing as well, flushing a little. "I don't mean it's romantic. I don't think you would have touched me that night if you were with her. I just don't think you're strictly work partners either."

\---

He enjoyed that he’d flustered her. “So it’s impossible that she’d want to save me unless we’ve had sex is what you’re saying.” If she didn’t think they were in a relationship, then that was exactly what she was saying. Really, he was just fucking with her because he still did not believe that Widowmaker had come by herself, no matter what Mercy had to say about it.

\---

"I just...think it's more likely." Maybe she _was_ encroaching on a relationship. She eased back from him a little. "Am I wrong? You don’t have anything with her?"

\---

Unlike when he’d talked about Moira, he wasn’t as willing to talk about it. It felt different. What he had with Widowmaker was a fling of sorts, but… it was undeniably different. “She was… helping me.” The longer it had gone on, the less it had been about helping him, but that was where it had started. She had helped him and from there, they’d simply made use of each other. 

\---

She wasn’t sure what that meant and as intrigued as she was, she could hear his reluctance to talk about it. "...So I'm not being a homewrecker right now, right?" Her tone was softer and she touched his cheek lightly. 

\---

His brows came together. “No, of course not.” He shook his head. “We’re just partners.” Partners that couldn’t keep their hands off of each other. It wasn’t like that, though. “She’s not capable of those sorts of things.” Even if he wanted that with her and he didn’t. He didn’t want that with anyone. “Neither am I.”

\---

She smiled a little solemnly. "I think you're capable of more than you realize." Maybe Widow really was that far gone, but he shouldn't feel like he was incapable of that kind of connection with someone. She leaned in and the kiss she gave him was soft and chaste. "You must trust her to some degree. Did you ask her for help or did she offer?"

\---

This was taking a turn he didn’t expect. Maybe it had been a bad idea to bring up other people they’d slept with in the middle of trying to fuck. He had a feeling that they weren’t going to get to the actually fucking bit anymore. He studied her and, with a little hesitation, answered, “I asked her.” He wasn't sure why he was telling her this, but it was easier to talk to her than it had been to talk to most people.

\---

That was what she expected. He had shown some degree of vulnerability to Widow. "What did you ask her?" She moved one of his hands rather absently back to her tit. This time she wasn't greedy for pleasure, she simply thought that he might have an easier time talking about something like this if his hands were busy.

\---

She was right and his hand started to squeeze as soon as she offered it to him. “...To hurt me.” He swallowed and his eyes fixed on the slope of her shoulder. “I was in so much pain and… I wanted to feel something else. More pain was better than the pain I had to endure every day. She pleased me too, but... it was about the pain. For both of us.” If he’d simply asked her to please him, it would have never happened. 

\---

Her fingers stroked lightly over his arm, hoping to comfort him and encourage him to keep kneading her chest. "Did she do both for you every time? Or was it sometimes one or the other?"

\---

“She only hurt me a couple of times.” The rest of the time, they’d simply fucked. He liked what they’d done when she’d dominated him, but it was definitely only something he could handle from time to time. The rest of the time, he simply wanted to lose himself in her.

\---

"I can't imagine what hurting all the time for so long was like for you…" That he wanted to be hurt more just to feel something else. "Now that you're not in pain anymore, do you think you'd still need her to hurt you?" 

\---

Need her to? “No.” If he weren’t here and he were instead at Talon, where he was supposed to be, would he let her? Yes. The pain had a purpose, but there was something enjoyable about it that had nothing to do with his wounds. The loss of control. The overwhelming sensations. Pain was quite the compliment to pleasure. 

\---

"I'm glad, but I'm also glad that she was helping you when you needed that." She gave his arm a soft squeeze. He'd had some distraction from his suffering, if only for a little while. 

\---

He hummed, still squeezing her. “You’re still wrong. Whether or not we’ve slept together, she wouldn’t have come for me by herself.” Just because she was right about them, doesn’t mean she was right about that. “I get her and she gets me.” He knew her too well to believe it. What he did believe was that she would be there for it. Whenever it did happen. Whenever Talon got their shit together and came for him again, she would want to be there.

\---

"Maybe you're right." She wasn’t going to argue with him about it, even if she was certain she had come alone. "Or maybe she sees what I see in you. Someone worth helping. Someone who deserves comfort and pleasure." And peace, even if peace wasn’t what he wanted. 

\---

“That’s what you see?” He didn’t think she was really talking about Widowmaker anymore. She was talking about herself. “That’s why you’re here? I deserve it?” He gave her a harder grope, showing her what he meant.

\---

"Not the only reason, but you do deserve pleasure." She very slowly rocked her hips against his. "I want to help you in so many ways."

\---

He free hand rose and he touched her cheek, tugging her in for another kiss. “Show me,” he murmured, the mood slowly returning. “Show me what I deserve.” From anyone else that would mean hands around _his_ throat. Not her. From her, it meant her walls wrapping tightly around his cock.

\---

She was relieved that he was so receptive to her. She could reward him for being so open with her. Her fingers wrapped around his cock and she held him in place, rubbing the tip him through her slit. She moaned under her breath, giving herself what she needed to prepare to take him. 

\---

His cock had lost its previous stiffness, but as she rocked and rubbed them together, it was perking up again. He slid his arm back around her, holding her as he kissed her. There was something different about it after all was said. Something deeper. He had opened up to her and she to him. 

\---

She could feel the difference and she kissed him with slow, but searing passion. By the time he was hard enough, she was adequately wet and she raised her hips as she positioned him beneath her. She sank down on his cock, breathing a moan against his lips. 

\---

He rocked up to meet her as she eased onto him. He held her to him, needing her close. She was so warm. So pure. Part of him wanted to tear her to pieces and part of him wanted to treasure her. “Angela...” he breathed, her name falling off his lips for the first time like this.

\---

"Gabriel…" She was shaking, but for once it had nothing to do with pleasure or fear. She began to ride him very slowly, her arms draping around his shoulders, craving closeness to him as well. 

\---

He rocked with her, savoring every slow thrust. He felt her shaking and he stroked her back. The touch was almost comforting, his fingers trailing around the nape of her neck and into her loose locks.

\---

In the back of her mind, she knew they'd been in the nook for some time already and they should make this quick. But she felt so close to him right now and she couldn't bring herself to rush. She kept the pace nice and slow, so caught up in him and the way he touched her. 

\---

He knew what she’d want from him, but he wasn’t in a rush to turn it into that. He broke the kiss and pressed his forehead to hers, his eyes fixed on hers. They were the opposite of his. So bright and blue, while his were dark and red. No longer so irritated, but still tinged around the irises even so. 

\---

Her fingers slid into his hair, holding him close to her after the kiss broke. She wished they were in her bed. That they were on comfortable sheets and could curl up together when they were finished. That they could have all the time in the world for this.

\---

There was something so intimate about maintaining such intense eye contact. He held it for as long as he could stand to, but his cock was starting to throb with need and so he finally let a hand slide down between them so his fingers could start to rub her. To give her what she needed so in turn she would give him what he needed.

\---

Her breathing deepened when he touched her. She could have kept up the slow pace longer, but his fingers spurred her hips faster. It was gradual, but steady and before long she was riding him wildly. 

\---

At the pace he was going, the cameras could pick them up beyond the sounds of the shower, but hopefully no one was paying attention because he didn’t care. He thrusted himself up into her hard, giving in and letting himself take what he’d wanted from her all this time. He held back his moans, at least, because that would be even more obvious.

\---

Mercy was used to keeping quiet so her moans remained soft and breathy, the most incriminating sound being the slapping of their skin. Her fingers tightened in his hair and her thighs gave the familiar tremors to warn that she was close. "Gabriel…" She murmured, her voice tight with need just before she toppled over the edge, her hips erratic as she rode out her release on him. 

\---

He squeezed his eyes shut when she tightened around him. It was all he could do to stop himself from grabbing her hips and pounding her frantically. Instead, he helped her through her release and only then did he clutch at her so he could give it to her properly. It took a while still for him to follow, but when he did, he buried his teeth into her shoulder to silence himself as he spilled.

\---

She endured his pounding despite being sensitive, but the bite was pain she didn't expect. She gasped sharply, but was quick to clamp a hand over her mouth to stifle the sound. Her eyes closed and she marveled over how different his seed felt in her now that he was warmer. 

\---

Her gasp added to his pleasure. Whether it resulted from his teeth or from his seed, he didn’t know, but her reaction to his orgasm satisfied him either way. When he’d emptied himself into her, he slid his arms around her waist and held her flush to him. His breaths were still harsh and there was a sheen of sweat on his skin.

\---

She shifted enough to wrap her arms and her legs around him. She rested her head on his shoulder, appreciating that he held her so close when he finished taking what he wanted from her. At least tonight, she didn't have to leave him right away. She could sleep at his side. 

\---

Normally he would have already pulled away. Normally he would already be gone, but that wasn’t an option. So instead, he was holding her close, his hand stroking through her hair. He shut his eyes and took in the comfort of having a warm body wrapped up in his.

\---

Maybe she should let her hair down around him more often. She liked the feel of his fingers in her hair. "I'm glad I can spend the night with you. Even if we can't sneak off to my room."

\---

“Maybe we should just sneak off to my room,” he suggested, smirking. If only. The thought was amusing enough that he ended up snickering to himself a moment later.

\---

"That would be even more impressive." She pulled back enough to kiss his lips. "I'm at least moving my bunk closer to yours." A slight rebellion to the rules.

\---

More ideal was more like it. “We should get back out there.” It was a miracle no one had come to check on her thus. He considered her and while he had her close, he kissed her himself. Then he eased her up so that they could untangle and dress. 

\---

She rose to her feet slowly. It wouldn't hurt to be a little damp when they came out and she wanted to rinse the seed that was dripping down her legs. She stepped into the water, pensive as she considered everything he told her. 

\---

He watched her as she began to rinse herself off. She was quite the sight and though he could probably use it too, he grabbed his clothing and started to dress. Once he had everything on, they wouldn’t be able to tell if he was wet or not. Out of habit, he pulled his mask back on as well.

\---

She was only in the water briefly before she turned it off and began to dress. Seeing that he put his mask back on made her think he didn’t plan on opening up to her any further that night. He was hiding again. After looking into his eyes so intensely for so long, it was simultaneously a disappointment and almost a relief. 

\---

He was waiting for her. If he walked out of the bathroom alone for any length of time, they would think the worst. So only when she was ready did he step out. His eyes went to the cameras and the door, but the room was as empty as ever, so he went to his cot and settled on his back once more.

\---

She pushed her cot flush against his, then climbed onto it as well. It was fortunate no one had come. Especially Jack, she half expected him to storm in at some point. "I still think about you at night." She murmured when she wrapped her arms around her pillow as she always did. 

\---

He turned his head to look at her. She was rather close and so even though they were on separate beds, he could reach out and touch her if he wanted. “What do you think about?” What they just did, obviously, but he wondered if there was anything else.

\---

“I’m not sure you want to know.” Of course he did. But she said so with a coy little smile, holding her pillow tighter. “Some of it is scandalous, some of it not so much.”

\---

“I do.” He turned to his side so he was facing her as well. He could see her easily through his mask, so as far as he was concerned, they had as much eye contact as they’d had in the bathroom. “Tell me.” He wanted to know about everything she thought about.

\---

"It usually starts scandalous. I think about the things you've done to please me." She murmured, watching him and wishing his mask was off. "But once I'm spent, I like to think about your arms around me. Falling asleep with my head on your chest." The sappy stuff he probably had no interest in, though she did appreciate that he liked to hold her after they had their fun.

\---

His lips quirked. She was right that what she was saying wasn’t something he was all that interested in, but… it was the sort of thing he wanted her to want. “Sounds kind of nice.” He tugged his blanket over him, but only so he could slide his hand to her beneath it and rest it on her stomach.

\---

"A little mushy, I know, but nice." She smiled when he touched her and pulled up her own blanket, using the motion to subtly shift closer to him. 

\---

When she came closer, he slid his hand to her side instead, lightly resting it there. Almost around her. He would pull her in to give her what she wanted if he could. Instead, he simply touched her, studying her.

\---

It was almost what she fantasized about. Her hand sought him beneath the blankets, resting on his chest. She closed her eyes, a faint smile on her lips. 

\---

It was as they were laying there that he abruptly remembered their agreement in the shower and that his question hadn’t been answered. “I never got my guess.” He still wanted to know. 

\---

"Here I thought I was going to get away without you knowing." She opened her eyes again to look at him. "Who do you think it was?"

\---

He really only had one idea and he found himself hoping he was wrong. There was reluctance in his tone even as he voiced it. “It’s McCree, isn’t it?” It made the most sense. They were the same age and had been both young when they were recruited by Overwatch. Why wouldn’t they gravitate toward each other? He clearly wasn’t a fan of the idea as he waited for confirmation.

\---

She had expected amusement and was surprised that he seemed uneasy instead. "It is. Only once and a long time ago. But it was him." 

\---

He made a face, which was thankfully not visible to her. “Hmm.” Really, it wasn’t surprising. It had been his guess for a reason. “And he’s the only one?” 

\---

"That you would know, yes." She stroked her fingers absently over his chest. "Rumors float around about Genji and me once in awhile, but it's never been like that with us."

\---

“Genji?” That was not one he would have guessed. The man was private and as far as he had been aware, not one to spend time with others. He’d hardly spent time with the others in Blackwatch and Reaper hadn’t exactly gone out of his way to bridge the gap himself. “You must be close.” For rumors to swirl. 

\---

"He's a good friend. He's one of the only people even somewhat supportive of me helping you." Jesse was the only other possibility and she hadn't really spoken to him in awhile.

\---

“I guess we got along alright.” His relationship with Genji hadn’t been all that different from his relationship with Widowmaker. Formed on mutual respect. He’d had less grievances with him than McCree had and he’d never gone out of his way to question him, which he liked. 

\---

"He's easy to get along with." She drew a nonsense little pattern on his chest with her fingertip. "Did you think I would have taken anyone else from Overwatch to bed?"

\---

He considered her question, then shrugged. “I don’t know, I wouldn’t have thought you would take me to bed, but you did.” There was another pause he considered what he was saying. “I guess I know how easy it is to forget to have a life, and sometimes it seems like the job is all there is. Sometimes convenience is exactly that.”

—

"It's why I've never tried to pursue a relationship. I'm married to my work, I always have been." It wouldn’t be fair to a partner to have so little of her time and attention.

\---

In some way, he could relate to her, but his reality was different from hers. He would have agreed with her in the past, though he had pursued relationships even then. They had simply been short-lived, lasting only a couple of months at a time. Nowadays, it wasn’t work that kept him alone. It was something altogether more isolating. Revenge took everything from him, took precedence over everything else. 

“If you understand that, it surprises me you seriously entertained the thought that I was with Widowmaker.”

—

"I think it's the romantic in me. I liked the idea of a woman that's good to you back at Talon. Who would come swooping in on a hopeless mission to get you back." She smiled softly. "It's sweet, even if it isn't reality."

\---

Women. He hummed indulgently. “Is that why you’re so insistent she still has emotions? You want to pretend that I woke her up somehow?” It sounded exactly like the sort of thing she was imagining. It was… ridiculous. It was interesting to him that she wanted to imagine him having a thing with her, considering what was currently happening between them.

\---

"I like to think that she isn't too far gone. That someone could help her." What Talon had done to her was unspeakable. There was no telling if anything could actually be done for her. 

\---

“I like her as she is.” He didn’t care about who she’d been before. He probably wouldn’t have liked who she was before. He knew what Talon had done to her was fucked up and if they ever got any ideas about doing the same to him, he’d tear it apart from the inside out just like he had with Overwatch, but… he liked her. 

\---

"Does she still have...a personality?" She wasn't entirely sure how to ask. She didn't understand what there was to like about her if she was stripped of emotion. 

\---

“In a way.” She was distinctly her. There were things about her that he appreciated, that he would call personal traits. “She’s simple.” It was easy to get along with her because she was so simple. Interacting with her was more natural than interacting with anyone else. 

\---

"Probably a lot more simple than most women." Not that all women were emotional, but most that she knew were. "Do you miss her?"

\---

The look he gave her was strange. To him that was a rather strange question. “No.” Why would he miss her? It would be nice to see her because that would mean he was getting out of here, but… His eyes lowered. It _would_ be nice to be out with her again. 

\---

It was hard to read him with his mask hiding him. Her hand settled lightly on his chest once more. "I'm just being a dumb romantic again." 

\---

“If you’d rather I pursue her, just say so.” He tucked his free arm beneath his head to prop it up. He preferred to keep the topic on them, rather than on the other woman in his life. 

\---

"I'm not so vain to think you're pursuing me, Gabriel." Yes, he was drawn to her. Yes, there were sparks between them sometimes, but she was the only person he interacted with these days.

\---

His lips quirked. “That’s not what I said. I said if you’d rather I pursue her, then say so.” Sure, the opposite was implied and, being entirely honest, meant, but it was better to dance around this topic than approach it directly. Even if he far preferred a direct approach. 

\---

She lowered her eyes, a little heat filling her cheeks. "No, I wouldn’t prefer that." She couldn't feel anything for him, if he was right about her. Widow wouldn't make him happy. 

\---

He rewarded her answer by using the hand around her to tug her in. Just a little. Not enough to close the distance between them or draw attention to them, but enough to rid some of the space.

\---

She felt the tug and raised her eyes to him again. She stretched, using the opportunity to scoot a little closer to him. She wished she could press herself to his chest, but at least they were able to touch. 

\---

He stroked his fingers against her side. It would be nice if he could slip his hand beneath her shirt. He decided to do just that. Slowly, his hand snaked down to the hem of her shirt and then back up. His fingers splayed out across her skin and started to stroke it again.

\---

"You're so much warmer now." She murmured, closing her eyes comfortably as he stroked her skin. She'd gotten so used to chilled fingers touching her. 

\---

“I assume that’s a good thing.” He thought of Widow, yet again, and how chilly she was. It had never bothered him, though, so maybe his temperature had never bothered her. 

\---

"I didn't mind your cold hands." It had made everything feel a little more unnatural and taboo, but she couldn't deny that it felt better with a little more warmth in his fingers. "This feels good, though."

\---

“Good.” He continued to stroke his fingers over her skin, watching her. He kind of wished he could pull her in for his own sake. He wanted to kiss her and to feel her lithe body warm against his.

\---

"I'll have to come up with more excuses to come spend the night with you." Even if she wasn't in his arms, she liked that they were close enough to touch. That she could fall asleep with his fingers brushing her skin. 

\---

He chuckled to himself. She was rather bold, wasn’t she? Even if they’d gotten away with this, he wondered how long it would take for people to stop and question her. To see what was, in all honesty, rather obvious.

\---

She smiled faintly, her eyes still closed. It was so much better to have time like this with him without security watching their every move. There were still cameras, but they were quite limited in what they could see and hear while they were on their bunks. 

\---

Eventually his eyes fell shut as well. He sighed to himself and shifted slightly, getting comfortable. His hand went still on her, though he kept it there. Slowly, but surely the exhaustion of his long day started to take its toll and he began to fall under.

\---

She could feel his breathing slowing beneath her hand. She wondered if he would actually fall asleep while she was here and it seemed he was on his way. It was probably exhaustion from the procedure, but she liked to think it was a sign that he felt safe in her presence. It wasn’t long before she was drifting off as well, comforted by the strong hand that rested on her. 


	37. Chapter 37

“Your feet are too big,” Sombra complained as she dropped onto Widowmaker’s bed. The woman was taller than she was and so the heels that she had slipped her feet into were loose. At least when she wasn’t standing in them, they felt good to wear. They looked good too. She looked down at the dress draped around her. A little too long for her, but it hugged her nicely. Their bodies weren’t so different that it looked bad. In fact, she thought it looked as beautiful on her as it did on its owner. 

“You need more color in your closet. You don’t actually have to look like a vampire at all times, you know.”

\---

"Not many colors work with my skin tone." She watched the girl flop down onto her bed from where she sat. It was strange to be spending time with her, or anyone, but it was nice to have someone appreciate her wardrobe. It helped fill the hours when she wasn't working so she wasn't preoccupied with whatever was happening to her partner. 

\---

She hummed at that. She supposed that was true. Even so, a little color wouldn’t hurt. Even if it did clash. “I’d say you should come try on my clothes, but I don’t think you’d be interested in anything I have.” It would amuse her, though. It would also amuse her to see the reactions of others if they went out in each other’s garments.

\---

She gave a little shrug. "Some of your clothes might suit me." Doubtful, but she wasn't opposed to trying new things. It might give her ideas she could utilize in her own style. 

\---

“How opposed would you be to shaving half your head?” She’d love to get her hands on her. To dress her up properly. With paint and everything. She could have a lot of fun with her, if she’d let her.

\---

"Very, but we could style it a different way." It was so long and there was a lot she could do with it. She simply chose not to. 

\---

“Aww, come on. Live a little.” She gave the skirt of the dress a little tug. “It’s not like Gabe will mind.” She looked up at her with a little smirk, interested in what her reaction might be.

\---

Her eyes lowered. Reaper wouldn't mind because he wouldn't know. He was still trapped in there and nothing was being done to get him out. She was quiet, only shook her head and began to inspect the ends of her long locks to keep busy. She could trim them a little, but she wasn't shaving her head. 

\---

Her reaction was… sweet. It made her smirk widen. “He’s changing too, you know.” They’d made some headway on infiltrating Overwatch and though Sombra was still fighting their security system, they’d found more traditional methods of getting the intel they needed.

\---

That made her eyes lift again. "What do you know?" Clearly she'd seen something. Even if it was another short glimpse of footage, there was new intel. 

\---

“We were right. They’re experimenting on him, but not for the reason we thought. That doctor, Dr. Ziegler, is trying to fix him. To take away what _our_ doctor did to him.” There was more to it than that, but was the most relevant thing to their conversation. “Apparently he’s letting her, too.” 

\---

She frowned. She knew what it was to be altered by doctors and could only imagine what they might be doing to him. "Of course he is. She'd do it whether he was willing or not. Best to go along until we can get him out."

\---

She shook her head. “No, he’s letting her,” she insisted. “We’re not sure why, but apparently the two of them have gotten real cozy. According to our source, Dr. Zieglar agreed to stop all treatment on him until he was willing to let her and in the meantime, they haven’t been able to keep their hands off of each other.” It had been framed as professional, if not questionable touching. “Eventually he agreed and she made some drastic changes to him. Slept in his cell with him after it was done too.”

\---

She shook her head. "She's done something to him. She's changed him and we need to get him out of there." He would never let anyone from Overwatch near him. 

\---

She considered her. “If that’s what you really think, I’d refrain from saying so.” She scooted to the edge of the bed and let her legs swing off it. “So far they think he’s trying to do what he can to get information and get out, but if you really think she’s done something to compromise him… Well, they’re not as eager to bring him back.” Not in the way she wanted him back.

\---

"...Hopefully that's it. He's getting close to get as much intel as he can." It was more appealing than the alternative for multiple reasons. "If we have this much inside information, what are we waiting for?"

\---

She sighed. “Todo el mundo piensa que piratear es como chasquear los dedos y puf, magia. I’m good, but it takes time. Most governments I’ve cracked have less security than Overwatch. Until I get in, there’s no guaranteeing getting him out.” She’d made a lot of progress, but not enough to greenlight a mission. “Besides, our source is gonna be making contact with him soon. Once he’s up to speed, it’ll be a lot simpler to put the pieces in place.”

\---

"But we're getting closer?" It sounded like they were a lot closer. "Who do we have on the inside?" And why wasn't she told? Probably so she wouldn’t be inspired to make another solo attempt. 

\---

She offered a nod of confirmation. “One of the nurses. Apparently the doctor doesn’t use them as much around him as she used to, but she’s the only one that can get in close enough to talk to him.” She would be. Soon.

\---

"That's good. I want him to know we're coming." He shouldn't feel like he'd been abandoned. They were coming for him, even if it wasn't happening as quickly as she wanted. 

\---

“I’ll let you know what happens.” It might be better to keep her in the dark. That’s what Talon seemed to think. Sombra wasn’t as worried about what she would do. She was obviously anxious to get him back, but she wasn’t going out of her way to cause trouble. Even if she did, it would be entertaining. Win win.

“Enough about grumpy Gabe - I want to try on the red dress.”

\---

"...Thank you for telling me what you know." No one else seemed to want to tell her what was going on. She rose from her seat and went to her closet, pulling out a long, luxurious red dress. It wasn’t the only one, but it was her favorite. "This one?"

\---

“That’s it!” Once she had her hands on it, she was eagerly changing out of the dress she already had on. She’d probably try on a handful more and then drag her off to lunch. After, she’d get back to work and hopefully soon they would be bringing Gabriel home.


	38. Chapter 38

Lisa's hands were shaking as she carried in the tray with Reaper’s meal. She'd been "recruited" for this mission more than a week ago, but this was her first opportunity to make contact. "Mr. Reyes?" She was young and looked a little frightened, but probably for different reasons than either Reaper or Overwatch were thinking. "Dr. Zieglar can't make it in tonight. I brought your dinner and I came to check on you."

\---

He frowned when one of the nurses stepped in. He saw the tray in her hands and he knew what it meant before she even spoke. It wasn’t a big deal, but… every time she didn’t show, he wondered if something had happened. If they were taking the doctor away from him. “I’m tired of telling you people my name, but it is definitely not ‘ _Mr._ Reyes’.” He stood up so he could take the tray from her. As his body adjusted to eating, he was rediscovering a hunger he’d forgotten he had.

\---

"Excuse me. Reaper." Dr. Zieglar didn't want anyone calling him that, but she wasn't here to correct her. Her dark eyes locked on his mask when he was close enough to take the tray, but she didn’t immediately release it to him. When she spoke again, her voice was much lower. "Lady Margo sends her regards." She knew exactly what she needed to say to him. It had been all but drilled into her. 

\---

He took hold of it, but when she spoke, he stilled. He stared at her, the phrase one he knew well, but was unexpected. His head cocked slightly as he took in what it meant. It didn’t make sense, but was this… Was this it? Was this the next escape attempt? He was suspicious. There was no way for her to know to say that if she wasn’t working with Talon, but if she was, then it was recent. There had not been any indication that she was on his side before now, so either this was some sort of trick or they had recently recruited her.

“...What do they have on you?”

\---

She was hoping he would just go along. That she could get this over with and go home. As soon as he asked, her eyes went glassy with tears she'd been hiding during her work hours for days on end. "My sister. They'll kill her."

\---

He hummed. Made sense. “Alright.” He didn’t give a shit about her sister, but it was useful to be aware of what was on the line for her. “Why are you here?” They had sent her for a reason and hopeful as he was that this really was it, his heart pounding, he didn’t think so. Not yet.

\---

"They have questions and answers." But she was to get their questions in first before she gave him the information he wanted. "Why are you cooperating with Dr. Zieglar?"

\---

For a beat, he simply studied her. Oh, if this was a clever trick from Overwatch, it could really fuck him over. He had to trust that they wouldn’t know what to say. “Why do you think? The more I cooperate, the more she trusts me.” Besides… she really was helping him. He wouldn’t say that, but it was the truth.

\---

"Have you seen weak spots in security or surveillance that could help you get out?" She was shaking harder and the dishes on the tray rattled. Her hands tightened on the tray to force herself steady. 

\---

“I think that’s a better question for you, isn’t it?” He understood why they were asking him, though. “The doctor intends on letting me out as a reward for my behavior.” He assumed she already knew that, but if not, then it would be solid information to pass along. He had his own questions he wanted answered, but he waited. “The longer I’m here, the more lax they are being.” Mostly in regards to her. Which was undoubtedly something she was already aware of.

\----

Those were the most important things they needed her to ask. "They're working on an override for the security system to get you out. In the meantime, I'm their eyes and ears in here. I know everyone's schedules and routines."

\---

He gave a short nod. “...Can you bring me a weapon? Something I can hide?” He’d be in a much better position if he had something to wield, should he need it. Though there weren’t a lot of places in his cells to hide anything, he thought he could make do.

\---

"No. They intend to clean and search your cell when you're out of the cell soon." She couldn't look at him and lowered her eyes to the covered food on the tray. "You won’t need a weapon. Your extraction will be clean and quiet." It was what they told her. No one had to die if she cooperated. 

\---

With another hum, he tugged the tray out of her hands. “What does Overwatch intend with me?” While it might not be information she was privy to, but sometimes things had a way of spreading. He knew what Angela intended, but what she intended and they intended were probably rather different. The more time he spent with her… Well, he was waiting for them to decide enough was enough.

Until then, he had to make the most of the situation. 

\----

"I only answer to Dr. Zieglar." And Talon, now. She shook her head. "She doesn't want to hurt you. If there's any way I can help get you out without her getting hurt, I'll do it."

\---

His expression was unreadable, not that she’d be able to see it. “Tell them I want more details on this plan of theirs.” He understood that this was initial contact, so the exchange of information would be minimal. She couldn’t linger too long or those watching might wonder what was happening. He turned with the tray in hand and made his way to his bed.

\---

Without so much as a glance behind her, she turned and left. Talon would be reaching out to her again soon. She would exchange whatever new information she could and help them get Reaper out as quickly as possible. Lives depended on it. 


	39. Chapter 39

When Mercy made her way into Reaper’s room with his dinner tray one evening, she didn’t know that she had narrowly missed her nurse, Lisa, visiting him. That her nurse had been in a couple times to see him without her knowing. She usually brightened to see him, but tonight she was a little melancholy. It looked as if she’d had a long day. “Good evening, Gabriel. I hope you’re hungry, the chefs got carried away.” As if she hadn’t specifically told them to give him heaping helpings and lots of variety.

\---

He noticed that she was off as soon as he saw her and as he went to collect the tray, he considered her. “Is everything okay?” She usually hung around while he ate, so he started to settle on the floor. It wasn’t as convenient as sitting on his bunk, but even as much as they pushed the physical contact, they still kept the bars between them most of the time.

\---

She’d always been one to wear her feelings on her sleeve, but it still made her lips quirk up that he read her so quickly. “Everything is fine.” She sat down on the floor on her side of the bar, tucking her legs beneath him. 

\---

He wasn’t going to press, so he focused on the food he’d been brought. He was happy to see it - the meals were pretty much his favorite part of each day. Even over the company. Though he didn’t like it whenever he missed out on her company, either. He took off his mask and started right in on his meal with enthusiasm.

\---

It was good to see him eat. She could tell how much he’d missed it every time he indulged. She was content to sit in his company for a little while, but eventually she spoke up. “They denied my request to bring you out of your cell. They had been fine with it in the early days of the discussion, but now...now they’ve decided it’s too much of a risk.”

\---

He paused, finishing what he had in his mouth and setting his spoon down. “...Why?” He had a thought as to why, but maybe there was something else to it that he ought to know. That he could tell his informant. 

\---

“They think I’ve gotten too close. That I might be too trusting of you and it would be dangerous to let you out.” She shook her head and sighed. “I’m sorry, Gabriel. I feel like I’ve let you down.”

\---

“...I suppose that isn’t surprising.” She did spend the night in his cell with her cot beside his. If he wasn’t in contact with Talon, he might be more upset about it. As it was, he wasn’t relying on their trust to get him out anymore. “It’s not your fault.” It sort of was, but he preferred her trust over theirs anyway.

\---

She knew it was, but it was sweet of him to say so. “I’ll keep working on it. They can’t expect you to just stay in there and never get to come out.” It sounded like that was exactly what they expected.

\---

“I’m lucky I’m still alive,” he pointed out, not at all surprised. He didn’t know what they intended for him - he still hadn’t gotten answers in that regard, but he was sure he’d rot in here if there weren’t forces working to release him. 

\---

“I wouldn’t let them hurt you.” She said sternly. She knew there were people who were pushing for his execution. But so long as she was making progress, and she was, they had no right to pull him from her care. 

\---

He gave her a little smile, but there was something indulgent to it. “Guess it’ll be harder for us to find time to ourselves.” They hadn’t had any time since that night. Not any _real_ time. He picked up his spoon and started in on his meal again.

\---

“Maybe, but we do need to talk about your next procedure.” She knew it was hardly his favorite topic. “I would need to examine you closely before and after, of course.”

\---

His smile grew. That was the part he liked most about her procedures. “...What all are you intending to do?” She’d done so much last time. Was this going to be the last one? Or would he need another after? There was a squirming in his stomach. He was gambling his abilities every time he let her work on him… but then again as far as he knew they were already gone. It wasn’t like he would know until she stopped dosing him with whatever she was giving him to neutralize them.

\---

“The same thing I did last time. Cellular stabilization combined with more traditional healing. With any luck, I’ll have your wounds healed and your body temperature back to normal. You’ll be like you were before.” Not before Moira, but before the explosion. 

\---

“...And you’re certain it won’t completely stabilize me?” Whatever that meant. Whether he would lose his abilities completely or maybe just their full functionality. 

\--- 

“...I can’t be completely certain. It’s a very low possibility that I could completely stabilize you.” She knew it wasn’t what he wanted, but she wanted to be honest with him. 

\---

He hummed, taking another bite of his meal. “Alright.” He’d already agreed and uneasy as he was about it, he liked the results so far. “...Kind of surprised you haven’t tried to fix my voice.” He wasn’t sure that was possible, the way it had been so badly damaged. Moira had informed him that he was lucky he wasn’t mute. 

\---

That made a little color rise to her cheeks. “I haven’t tried to because I like your voice.” It was incredibly sexy. “Would you like me to work on it this time?” It was his choice, she would try to repair it if it was his preference.

\---

He looked at her, amused by the flush in her face. “...I like it too.” He was losing so much of what made him who he was… maybe it would be nice to keep that much. It was a lot more intimidating than what he used to sound like. “It’s more fitting when I have my mask on, though.”

\--- 

“Maybe, but I prefer you with it off.” She liked to be able to see him. Especially his eyes. “So I’ll leave your voice alone if you like it as it is.”

\---

He gave a short nod. As long as he was suited up, he would seem no different. That felt important to him. “...I don’t feel right without it.” After wearing it for almost a decade, he felt naked without it. Even if he wasn’t as awful looking anymore, it still felt wrong to not cover himself.

\---

"Then wear it as much as you like, but know that I like to see you with it off." She didn't want him to feel ashamed of his scars or like he needed to hide from her. 

\---

His lips tugged up, but he left it at that. He continued to eat, filling his stomach steadily. “So when are you thinking?” He wanted to make sure she knew so that he could tell his informant. Though, he supposed she would know as soon as he did. She would undoubtedly be assisting with whatever was done to him.

\---

“Two days, if that’s okay with you.” It was soon, but the less time he had to fret about it was probably better. It was all the time she would need to ready her team.

\---

“Okay.” He took a breath and then finished his food. He had to let her think that he didn’t see an end in sight, so after a while, he spoke up. “Maybe if we’re more careful… they’ll start to trust you with me.” That probably included not sitting together and speaking questionably quietly so that the cameras couldn’t pick them up, but… whatever.

\---

“Maybe.” It would probably be a good idea to distance herself from him a little. But bonding with him had accomplished so much - she’d hardly had to convince him at all for this final procedure. Beyond that, she had to admit to herself that she was deeply drawn to him. “It would be easier if I wanted to be more careful, but I don’t.”

\---

“Neither do I.” He wanted to go right back into his bathroom with her. Hell, he wanted her to stay the night with him. He wondered if she’d still think of him even after he left.

\---

She gave him a little smirk. “I wish I could kiss you right now, but I’ll have to wait until your next exam. I can be that careful, at least.” Even if she didn’t want to.

\---

It amused him to hear his own words repeated back to him. He knew she meant it and that felt better than he thought. A lot of this had felt better than he thought it would. “Patience has never been my strong suit.’

\---

“I know.” She’d never been very good with patience herself. “I’ll have everything ready in two days. Then we’ll have some time together.” Time and privacy from the cameras. 

\---

He scooted closer to the bars, leaning his shoulder into them. “At least when you’re alone at night, there aren’t cameras watching you.” It hadn’t stopped him from touching himself a handful of times, but he _hated_ the awareness that someone was watching. Even if they weren’t actively trying to watch.

\---

“I’m glad for that, but it wouldn’t stop me.” As long as she had a blanket to hide under, she’d still take care of her needs, but she knew that for awhile he didn’t even have that much. “Have you thought about me sometimes when you lay down at night?”

\---

When he looked at her, his eyes heated. The thought of her touching herself in his position… It was intriguing, to say the least. He gave her a mysterious little smirk, picking up his mask and tracing the contours of it. “Maybe. Maybe even before you would have wanted me to.”

\---

She liked the look in his eyes and her own blood heated a little. How did he do that to her? “Will you think of me tonight?” She’d liked to think that when she settled on her own sheets thinking of him, that he’d be thinking of her too.

\---

He could continue to play coy, but he was better with the truth. “Yes.” He would think of her and maybe he would even touch himself. Or maybe he would make himself wait. Maybe he’d contain himself until he could release his pent up needs onto her.

\---

“I’ll be thinking of you too.” It would be hard to be patient, but they would both have to keep their hands to themselves until the procedure. The more time they spent together, the harder it was getting to wait for the next time they could be together.

\---

“Why don’t you tell me what you’ll be thinking?” Then he could picture her thinking it. Laying in bed, her eyes shut as she imagined him, touching herself. Sliding _something_ inside of herself and trying to pretend it was him. It wouldn’t feel anywhere near as good as he did though. 

\---

“For the first one I’ll be thinking about your tongue…” She spoke even lower, even though she was already far quieter than the cameras would detect. “For the second, I’ll be thinking of you inside of me…”

\---

“Just two?” His voice was lower. Hungrier. The sort of voice that had made her flush when confronted with it earlier that evening. “I expect more from you.” As if he had any control of what she did outside of this room. Even inside of this room. He’d like to think he did, even if he didn’t.

\---

“Two is usually enough for me. I’m not _that_ greedy.” She wished he could tug her into the shower. Or better yet, she could tug him away to her bedroom for the night. “But I could do three tonight if you want me to.”

\---

“I do.” It would satisfy him to know she was touching herself because he told her to. He would imagine that while he worked himself, wishing he could taste her on her fingers when she was finished. 

\---

“Then tonight I’ll have three. Just for you.” And it would get her off all the more knowing that he had insisted on her cumming more than she usually would. “What will you be thinking about?”

\---

“You.” He’d be thinking about what she was doing. Not just that, though. There was more he’d think about. “Your mouth.” She’d yet to taste him, so he’d think about how warm her lips and tongue would be while they were wrapped around him.

\---

“I’ll show you what that’s like after your procedure…” She would happily treat him to her mouth. Maybe he would be as warm as he should be by the time she wrapped her lips around him.

\---

He shifted the mask in his hands down to his lap. Hiding himself. He was starting to thicken and though his pants were structured enough that it wouldn’t be especially obvious, he still didn’t want to risk anyone noticing. “Should’ve made a move sooner.” Back then. Back when he could have had her the way he wanted her.

\---

“Me too.” If either of them had expressed interest back then...maybe things would be different now. Probably not, but it was a nice thought. 

\---

“I really thought you were different.” When he’d woken up here. He’d known her, but he’d convinced himself that she had turned as rotten as the rest of them. “I don’t know why.” He’d truly hated her with a deep gut-wrenching fervor. The way he still hated them. The rest of them.

\---

“I’m glad you were wrong. I’m glad I was right about you.” She gave him a soft smile. “I knew under all of the hurt and anger, there was still a person that I really wanted to know.”

\---

He made a disgusted sound. “Ug, you make me sound like a wounded puppy.” He shook his head, not at all fond of being treated like a poor unfortunate… thing. 

\---

That made her chuckle. “You’re not like a wounded puppy.” She assured him, risking a playful nudge through the bars. “You’re more like a wounded, terrifying rottweiler.”

\---

He rolled his eyes, but his chuckle accompanied hers. “You’re going to have to come up with a better save than that.” He set a hand down the metal frame at the base of the bars, close to her, but not touching her.

\---

“Is a rottweiler not enough? Would you prefer a bear instead?” She knew she should get going. She wasn’t helping her cause by spending more time with him than necessary when there wasn’t a procedure involved, but she wanted to stay.

\---

“Bears are sort of intimidating, I suppose.” He wouldn’t mind being compared to a bear, but he preferred something more sinister. He liked to tell himself that he was death itself. A walking reaper. Far more frightening than any wild animal. Than any other man. “I think I’m scarier than bear, though.”

\---

“Bears are very intimidating, but yes, you’re scarier than a bear.” He was smart. He could be manipulative. Beyond that, he wanted to hear that he was scarier than any creature.

\---

“Are you still scared of me?” She had all but thrown herself on him, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t still frightened of him. That she wouldn’t wonder if the next time he touched her would be the last time. 

\---

“...Yes. A little.” She admitted. Most of the time she wasn’t, but once in awhile, she still thought he was waiting for the right moment to snap her neck. “Only a little. Not like I used to be.”

\---

“Do you like being scared of me?” He was curious if that was part of his appeal. Why else would she be so eager to be alone with him if she was truly scared of him? 

\---

“...I did. It turned me on a little when this started.” It had been part of the thrill of it all. “It’s a little different now though. I’m starting to like feeling safe with you instead.”

\---

The admittance sent a shiver up his spine. He studied her, thinking about what she had to say. What he thought of it. “You are…” It was something he would have said to win her trust before, but… It was starting to hit him that she was. He wasn’t intending on hurting her. 

\--- 

“I know.” Even if in the back of her mind she still felt like she was in danger sometimes, she truly believed he didn’t want to hurt her. They were closer now because they’d both had to earn each other’s trust. “I would feel safe in there with you right now.” If only she had an excuse to go into his cell and crawl into his arms for the night.

\---

He wondered if she not only felt safe from him, but from his presence. If she thought he would protect her, even though he was helplessly imprisoned. He wasn’t sure why he was wondering - perhaps he simply wanted to know how deep the trust in him had taken root. “Two days,” he reminded her. Two days and she would be in here with him.

\---

She gave him a little smile and nodded. “Two days.” They would go by quickly enough, but they both had to be patient. “I better get out of here before I get us both in trouble.” She’d already lingered too long. It was just hard to leave.

\---

He pushed himself up, gathering his tray. Luckily he didn’t need to hide himself anymore, so he slipped his mask on as he offered her the empty tray. “See ya, doc.” He finally spoke at a volume that would be caught by the cameras for the recordings. 

\---

“Have a good night, Gabriel.” She gave him a lingering look, then turned to go, the ghost of a smile still on her lips. Maybe if she finished her work early enough the next night, she would have time to play cards with him. It would help him pass the time until the next procedure and give her a better excuse to linger. 


	40. Chapter 40

Lisa was getting more nervous each time she came to visit Reaper. She knew it was almost time for the infiltration, but if it didn’t go well...she didn’t know what it meant for her sister. She honestly wasn’t sure they were going to let her go even if everything _did_ go well. 

She stepped into the room with the oximeter she’d need to record his vitals. It was her excuse for security if they ever questioned her coming into the room. As far as they knew, she was taking his vitals under Dr. Zieglar’s direction. 

“Good afternoon, sir. Please come to the bars so I can examine you.” She kept her voice steady enough for the cameras, but she could never quite get rid of the light tremble in her hands.

\---

The nurses’ visits were always brief. Short and to the point, but he hadn’t seen her in a couple of days. Since the final procedure, really. He’d been recovering and… spending time with Mercy. She was thrilled with the results and though he hadn’t seen himself, so was he. The wounds were gone. His skin was the same dusky color it had been so many years ago. His body was warm and he was feeling good. 

Apparently even his eyes had changed and they were supposedly the same color they used to be. It seemed like she’d reversed time, but as far as where that left his abilities, he had no idea. When he’d asked her if she could stop giving him the injections now, the answer was still no. There was no guaranteeing that they were gone and in the case, Overwatch couldn’t risk them coming back. Couldn’t risk him escaping. 

It didn’t matter. If the nurse was correct in what she’d been telling him, then it wouldn’t be long until he could find out for himself. He made his way to the bars, hoping that whatever she would have to say would be good news.

\---

She opened the device, holding it where he could slide his finger inside. “I’ve reported that you’ve completely recovered from the procedure and you’re ready. They only need to know when you might be let out of your cell so they can time their extraction.”

\---

He slipped his finger in, but his eyes were on hers. Not that she could see his or the way they widened when she spoke. “Wait… they’re ready?” The last she’d talked to him, they were close, but now they were ready? He cursed to himself, shaking his head. “They’re not going to let me out.” He cursed again, kicking his foot against the bars. Something he regretted a moment later after forgetting that he wasn’t wearing his boots.

\---

She cringed back at his reaction, forgetting all about the oximeter attached to his finger. When she was fairly confident he wouldn’t lash out through the bars at her, she moved closer again so she could speak quietly. “What do you mean they’re not letting you out? Like not in the next few days?”

\---

“What do you mean, what do I mean?” He sounded angry. How stupid was this woman? “They don’t trust her with me. They’re not going to let me out at all. Period.” Perhaps this was news to her, but he really hoped Talon’s plan wasn’t banking on them giving him any freedom. “They need to come up with a backup plan.”

\---

“Okay, I’ll tell them. They’ll come up with something else.” He was angry and she thought Talon might be angry also. She didn’t know what that was going to mean for her. She plucked the oximeter off his finger, pretending to read it and trying to still her shaking which she worried might be bad enough to be visible on camera now. 

Mercy stepped into the room with a little smile on her lips. She had something special for Gabriel and though she thought it might take a little coaxing, she thought he would enjoy it. When she saw that he wasn’t alone, her smile faltered and she stopped in her tracks. It wasn’t the first time there had been an uninvited guest in this room, but typically it had been old members of Overwatch dropping in on their former ally. This time it was someone from her own staff. “...Lisa, what are you doing here?”

The nurse turned to see the doctor staring at her in bewilderment and her blood went cold. “I was...taking vitals…” She could barely get the words out.

\---

He stiffened when the door opened and his eyes went between the two women. He didn’t think it was _that_ suspicious. It was why they’d chosen a nurse, after all. Even so, the woman’s reaction was going to give it away. He tried to step in. “You really need braver nurses. Every time this one comes in your stead, she completely shakes.”

\---

“She’s not here in my stead.” She looked between them. He was calm enough, but Lisa looked as if she was about to pass out on her feet. She had questions, but her mind went to the cameras and she went to pick up her notepad she kept in the room. “Step outside with me, Lisa. We’ll talk about those vitals.” She gave him an uneasy look, then started out of the room, the frightened nurse reluctantly tailing her. 

\---

His teeth grit. “Angela…” He tried to call her back. He really didn’t think it would be hard to convince her that nothing was going on, but not if she got that stupid woman out there on her own.

\---

Mercy continued to usher her out. She knew she wasn't going to get the truth if they weren't alone. 

Just outside of the room, she turned and put her hands on the nurse's shoulders. "Talk to me, Lisa. What's going on here?"

"I…" She wanted to come up with a lie, but looking up into Dr. Zieglar's soft blue eyes, eyes that she'd never seen malice in after years of working for her, made it just too hard. Lisa broke down in sobs. 

Whatever this was, it was bad. "Look, if you're in some kind of trouble, I can help you. I just need to know what we're dealing with." 

Lisa shook her head. She couldn't help. They already had her sister. There was nothing she could do. "They took Amy. I had to tell them what you've been doing to Reaper. They needed me to tell him they don't have a way to get him out yet." Not if they couldn’t get him out of his cell. "I'm so sorry, doctor."

Shit. "Do they have anyone else that you know of in here?" When the nurse shook her head, Angela squeezed her shoulders. "Okay. Next time they give you information for Reyes, tell me instead. I'll work on a way to get your sister back. They need her to control you so they're not going to do anything to her as long as they still find you useful to them." She didn't think the girl looked that convinced, but she couldn't blame her. "How long have you been doing this?"

"A couple weeks. I'm sorry. I couldn't tell you." She was still crying, but she was growing more composed. Dr. Zieglar wasn't going to turn her in. She could keep doing what Talon needed from her to keep Amy safe. 

"I understand." Mercy released her and sighed. "Go report to them or whatever you have to do. But next time, come straight to me." With that, she went into the room where her patient was waiting for her. Her arms were folded over her chest and her head was low as she approached the bars. "Weeks. You hid that from me for weeks."

When the doctor moved back into the room, Lisa caught the door before it closed completely, holding it slightest ajar so she could peer inside. She needed more intel to take back to Talon. If she just told them Reaper wasn't getting out of his cell, they might be finished with her. If they were finished with her, Amy was finished too. 

\---

Though she wouldn’t see it, his expression was cold. That stupid fucking bitch. He hoped her sister was dead before the night was through. “What did you expect?” His voice was also cold, so she would catch at least that much.

\---

"I expected honesty. I'm trying to help you, Gabriel. We both know you don't belong in that cage and I'm going to get you out of it." She shook her head. "If you're just lying to me, biding time until they can bust you out and nothing has changed… all of this was a failure on my part."

\---

His hands twitched and he gripped the bars. “I’m not getting out of here without them. You’re not stupid.” It was the first time he’d ever said as much. “Overwatch will never trust me. There is nothing either of us can do for them to ever trust me and they are _never_ going to let me go.” He sounded furious, like he was barely keeping his voice in check. “This isn’t about Talon. Fuck Talon, this is about the fact that I’m a fucking prisoner.”

\---

"They wouldn’t have approved this project just to keep you prisoner forever." Even if they'd been extremely reluctant to approve the project. She moved closer, holding on to the bars just beside the ones he held. It was the first time she hadn’t been frightened of him when he was clearly angry. "Yes, we had a setback that they wouldn't let you out before this last procedure, but I'm going to get you out. Have I been dishonest about anything I've said to you since you've been here?"

\---

“When?” he growled, “Six months? A year? Two years? You can’t do everything, Angela. You can’t make them do anything. You’re not going to spring me, are you? No. Talon will.” He gave the bars a shake and then released them, turning away from her.

\---

"I...don’t know when, but I'm going to make it happen." She rested her forehead against the bars when he turned away. "I won't let them keep you here." 

\---

He let out a slow breath. When he spoke, his voice was calmer. Still simmering with anger, but calmer. “You know as well as I do that things have changed.” He’d pretended for so long that nothing had. That everything he’d shared with her had been one-sided, but it hadn’t. “Just don’t delude yourself into thinking I’m what you want me to be. That I won’t do what I have to.” He hadn’t changed that much. 

\---

"You have changed, I _know_ you have. It's not about what I want you to be. It's about not letting you out and knowing I'm responsible for letting you kill my friends." Her voice was growing tight. She wasn't one for tears, but...she was frustrated and she was tired. "I don't care what Overwatch wants. I'll release you myself if it comes to that. I just can't do it yet. I've only healed your body. I'm still working on everything else. I just need more time."

\---

Slowly, he turned back to her. He didn’t know if she had time. If Talon was ready… even without their little spy, surely they would spring into action soon? “What is everything else?” If she was going to start to talk about healing his mind, he was done with this conversation. He wasn’t something for her to fix, even if that was how she’d treated him since he’d woken up here.

\---

"Your fixation with Overwatch. There is so much more that could fulfill you than Overwatch or Talon. I just...want you to be happy. You deserve that." Killing all of her friends just wasn’t the way she had in mind. 

\---

“You’re a hypocrite. You pour yourself into Overwatch and then stand there and tell me that I’m wrong for wanting to do the same?” Sure, his desires were destructive, but only because they were on opposite sides. Overwatch would happily take part in Talon’s fall. It just so happened he wanted to take part in Overwatch’s.

\---

"I pour myself into helping people. Into healing the sick and doing what's right. I have never wanted to be a part of Overwatch." She had disapproved of their methods both before and after it had fallen, but there was only so much she could do for people without their resources. "But I can't do procedures like I've done on you working out of a first aid tent."

\---

“Then go to Oasis! Go somewhere else!” He let out a huff. “You know what he did to me.” His voice was so quiet it would be hard for even her to hear him. He moved closer to her and went so far as to take his mask off, peering at her.

\---

"What _he_ did. Not Overwatch. No one knew, Gabriel." She insisted, a few stray tears rolling down her cheeks. Seeing him without his mask made her heart ache. It reminded her of why she had come in the first place. 

She heard the door open and two men from security stepped inside. It seemed the heated discussion was concerning whoever was watching the cameras. 

\---

His mouth twitched and his lips parted, but before he could say what he wanted to say, they were interrupted. His eyes slid past her to the men. His mouth twitched again and without another word, the mask went right back on. 

\---

She brushed at her cheeks with her sleeve and took a deep breath to compose herself. "I came early today because I wanted to show you something. Maybe I could bring it when I bring your supper tonight."

\---

“Whatever you say, doc.” Part of him was genuinely dismissing her. The other part was just for show. He was uneasy. He’d been so angry… he wasn’t entirely sure he’d been quiet enough. He tried to think about what they might have heard, but was telling himself that they both kept their voices down enough that nothing incriminating had been caught.

\---

She left without another word. Not getting approval to let him out of his cell had been an unfortunate setback, but this felt so much worse. Hopefully Talon was a long way off from making a move and she still had some time to work with him. 


	41. Chapter 41

Mercy had carried the mirror with her when she brought him dinner that night, but everything felt too tense between them. She wanted him to get the most out of seeing himself for the first time since she'd started working on him and she didn’t want what had happened with the spy to ruin it for him. 

As such, she waited a couple days to return to him at a time that wasn't one of her usual check-ins. Things were still tense, but they hadn't spoken of it again and things were starting to feel a little more normal. She stepped into his room, approaching the bars with an expression that was cautious, but hopeful. 

\---

Reaper had spent the last couple of days stewing. He didn’t know what had happened to the nurse and he hadn’t asked. Better not to bring it up. He just had to trust that Talon knew what to do and that they would be coming to get him soon. What communication they’d had was better than the nothing before. 

When she arrived outside of her usual time, he frowned. His first instinct was that something was wrong, but that didn’t line up with her expression. He approached the door, folding his arms over himself. He wasn’t as relaxed around her anymore, but their last handful of interactions had been civil enough.

\---

"How are you feeling?" She asked softly. She could see his posture was still defensive, but she didn’t think that would be changing any time soon. 

\---

“Fine.” He looked her over, only then noticing that she had something in her hand. “What is it?” Why was she here? 

\---

"I meant to show you this the other day." She brought the mirror she was carrying forward, turning it over in her hands. "I know you don't have the best relationship with your reflection, but...you look wonderful. You really do. I think you should see for yourself."

\---

He looked down at the mirror and shook his head. “I told you. I’ll take your word for it.” If she was happy with the results… then good for her. He didn’t care. It wasn’t as if he had spent a long time staring down at himself in the shower when he was alone. So long, the water ran out. 

\---

"My word isn't good enough for something like this. You need to see it with your own eyes." She put on a little smile for him. "Which are a gorgeous brown, by the way."

\---

He frowned, his feet shifting. “I don’t want to.” He didn’t know what it was he was so scared of, but he didn’t want to see himself. He knew he couldn’t avoid it forever, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t avoid it for as long as possible. For a long time, he’d avoided looking at himself. Eventually, the way he looked became so familiar to him, he stopped minding so much. Not enough to let anyone else see him, but he had been willing to look at himself from time to time. Now he was different again.

\---

"...Can I come in and sit with you for a little while?" Maybe he needed a little support. Maybe if she was with him, he would feel a little better about it. 

\---

His eyes went past her to the cameras. He was sure someone would come in. She’d gotten away with being alone with him that night, but… they weren’t _that_ careless. He shrugged and stepped back as far as he would have to for them to be willing to open the door and let her in.

\---

She looked up to the cameras and the cell door opened. She stepping inside, hoping that security would leave them be. She'd been in here plenty of times without them now and nothing had happened. The mood was calm enough between them. When she was close enough, she offered a hand to him. 

\---

He considered her hand for a time and eventually took it. Normally he would have taken it right away, but things were off enough that he wasn’t as warm as he would usually be. He walked back to his bunk and sat down on the edge of it, his fingers of his free hand scratching absently at his pants.

\---

He was clearly reluctant, but she was glad he chose to take her hand eventually. She sat down at his side, very close but not flush against him. "I got spoiled to having excuses to come in with you as often as I was. ...I've missed you."

\---

He took in a slow breath, his frown strengthening. He looked at her out of his peripheral and after a pause, he squeezed her hand. When was the last time he’d been missed? Really missed? Rather than to respond to her sentiment, he brought up his own. “You haven’t said anything.” He’d half-expected someone, likely Morrison, to come storming in after everything. Instead, nothing had happened and they’d left it at that.

\---

"Of course I haven't. If I'm to get you out of here, that needs to stay our secret." She'd hoped they wouldn’t speak of it again. She didn't want him to get angry, but not because she was afraid to be in the cell with him. She just wanted a quiet moment with him.

\---

He nodded faintly. He wasn’t surprised, not really, but he hadn’t known what to think, in truth. For her to keep it secret was… Well, it meant something to him. “I-” The words died on his lips. He couldn’t say it. He couldn’t tell her that he’d missed her too.

\---

"It's okay." She assumed he had more to say about what had happened. "You can tell me what you're thinking." She gave his hand a soft squeeze. 

\---

This time he shook his head. He couldn’t. He didn’t like talking about this, he didn’t even like thinking about it. He didn’t want to think he’d made himself so vulnerable to her. Vulnerable in a way that went completely beyond letting someone torture him into unconsciousness.

\---

"It's okay." She said again. He didn’t have to talk if he didn’t want to. She nestled into his side a little and rested her head on his shoulder. 

\---

After a while, his tense posture started to ease. The long they simply sat there, the more comfortable he was with her being there. The more it felt like normal. As normal as it could knowing they were being closely watched. Even if no one had come, someone was watching them. Was probably taking note of the way she was leaning into him. 

No wonder they thought she was too trusting of him.

\---

She was content to sit that way, brushing her thumb absently over his hand now and then. "Would you take your mask off for me?" She finally broke the silence, her voice low. "I want to see you…"

\---

He knew she wasn’t asking for herself. She’d never asked him to take his mask off for her. ...Even so, it was better than her shoving a mirror at him. Expecting him to want to see himself. Eventually he reached for it, easing it off with his free hand. He’d felt his face in the shower too. The wounds were gone. His lip was mended. There were some old scars, scars that predated the explosion, but otherwise his face felt entirely different.

\---

She sat up a little so she could look at him. She hadn’t had many opportunities to see his face since she'd finished her work. It was so different. Between the wounds, his skin color, his eyes...he was so vastly different from the day he'd woken up in his cell. 

\---

For a while, he let her look at him. Uncomfortable, but willing enough. When he spoke up, it was a lighter, but genuine question. “How old do I look?” His age hadn’t really stood out on him before. There was so much else to focus on. Without it, he was getting to an age where being old would be one of his defining characteristics. His hair and beard were already completely grey. 

\---

The question made her smile. "You'll have to be the judge of that, but you're very handsome." If he colored his hair, she thought he could pass for forties. But she liked his gray hair. 

\---

“Hmph.” The sound was almost amused. Still a stubborn bitch. After a while, he rolled his eyes to himself. “Just give me the damn thing.” He had a feeling she wasn’t going to leave until he looked. 

\---

"You can see what we look like together." Maybe having both of their reflections would take some of the pressure off. She brought the mirror out and turned it, holding it out so he could see both of them. "See?"

\---

Though her intentions were good, as soon as he caught sight of himself, he locked on. He didn’t even see her, staring into his own eyes. His breathing picked up and his expression twitched with the emotion rising in his throat. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed and he reached for the mirror absently, as if to take it from her. He didn’t realize that his hand was trembling.

\---

She could see that he was getting emotional and she brought the mirror within his reach, though she didn't let go of it when she saw the way his hand was shaking. She was quiet, letting him take it in and study himself. 

\---

He barely noticed that his hand was wrapped around hers as he tugged it closer. His eyes flicked over his face. He looked… like himself. He took in a shuddering breath and as lashes started to shine, he finally shoved it away. He blinked rapidly, taking slow, calming breaths.

\---

When he shoved the mirror away, she tucked it aside. She stroked his back, hoping to comfort him while he took his slow breaths. It had been so long since he'd seen himself like that, it was no wonder he was upset. 

\---

It took awhile for him to calm completely. He was still struggling with his emotions, but it wasn’t so difficult when he wasn’t staring at himself. “You do good work, doc,” he finally mumbled, clearly trying to make light of how intense that was for him.

\---

"I've heard I have a little talent." She appreciated his attempt to lighten the mood and returned it. She was still stroking his back slowly. "You look great, Gabriel. I'm glad you saw it for yourself."

\---

He hummed. He hadn’t really taken in how he felt about his appearance, but he looked so much like he used to… He’d known he was a good looking man before. It seemed that hadn’t really changed. He didn’t even look as old as he thought he might, though it was a little jarring to see his hair with his current features. It had struck him as wrong. That it should be the deep dark brown it used to be in his youth.

\---

"Now you know why I like to just sit here and look at you." She chuckled. Some of it was admiring her own work, yes. But he was also pleasant to look at. 

\---

He finally looked at her, his expression skeptical. “Considering I’ve only looked like this for a few days, I’m not sure I buy that.” He wasn’t really thinking about the fact that he’d looked better for a while now. It was just now that he looked his best. 

\---

"You've looked better ever since I fixed this…" She reached up and ran a fingertip lightly over his lower lip. It was pushing the affection in front of the cameras, but in fairness, it was something she had repaired and periodically examined on him. 

\---

His eyes were fixed on hers. His missing lip had been the most extreme thing about his appearance. Even the wounds through which his bone could be seen weren’t as drastic as his teeth and gums being on display at all times. Yet, she’d still kissed his ruined lips even before she’d repaired it. “Still don’t feel right without my mask.” With her, he didn’t mind, but as soon as she took her leave, he knew he’d be wearing it once more.

\---

“That’s okay. As long as you’ll let me see you like this once in awhile.” It was understandable that he would be very bonded with his mask after so long. She didn’t blame him for wanting to wear it even after all the repairs. 

\---

He nodded, his eyes saying what his words couldn’t. “You should probably get going.” Not that he wanted her to go, but they couldn’t stay around each other too long. Besides, she would still have to bring him dinner later and he’d could his mask off for her then as well.

\---

“Kicking me out already?” She said with a smile. She knew that this time, at least, he wasn’t really dismissing her. She gave his back one last stroke, then rose from her seat. “Maybe if I get done early enough tonight we can play cards.”

\---

“Sounds good.” Finally things were starting to feel like normal, but in the back of his mind he wondered how long it would last. Every minute, he was expecting the alarms to go off again. Expecting someone to storm in and bust him out.

\---

“See you soon.” She tucked the mirror into her lab coat, then started out. It was nice to feel like the tension between them had lightened, but that wasn’t the most important thing. He’d gotten to see himself and it had gone well, even as emotional as it had been for him. 


	42. Chapter 42

Doomfist was looking over his notes when the sound of high heels on the hard floor caught his attention. He raised his eyes to see Widowmaker step into the briefing room, taking a seat across from him and smoothing her skirt. He was curious to see how this would go over, considering the nature of the orders.

She was usually the perfect operative for any mission - never questioning, never complaining. She did what she was told and she did it well. But this was about her partner and despite all of her reconditioning, she’d formed some sort of bond with him. When he was captured, she’d acted irrationally. They had been watching her closely and though she was still performing well in her work and they’d seen no change in her emotional state, or lack thereof, they were still concerned about her unpredictable behavior. 

This was an opportunity for her to earn back their trust. Beyond that, she was the best person for the job. 

He greeted her with a nod, but her eyes were cold and she watched him expectantly. She just wanted her orders. That was fine with him, but they were waiting on one more person. As such, he went back to reviewing the notes in front of him until she arrived. 

\---

When Sombra stepped into the room, she was strangely nervous. She’d been expecting something like this, she just didn’t know if this was it. She’d heard what the nurse had to say. To add credibility to her words, Sombra had footage she’d recorded over the last few days that all but confirmed it to be true. What Talon was planning on doing with that information, she didn’t know.

Maybe they’d settled on how to spring him from his cell. Maybe that’s all this was. Maybe this had nothing to do with Gabriel at all.

“Hola, jefe.” She dropped down into the seat beside Widowmaker and gave Doomfist a pleasant smile that didn’t betray her unease.

\---

He nodded to her as well, then set his notes aside. “Welcome, ladies. The business we have to discuss is unpleasant, so I’m going to get right to it. Reaper has likely been compromised and it’s not going to be possible to extract him safely. The decision has been made to assassinate him.” His eyes went straight to Widowmaker. Watching for a reaction.

Widow stared at him. She knew there was an assassination. She was never called in if she wasn’t meant to lodge a bullet into someone’s skull. But she didn’t know that Reaper had been under discussion or anything about the new intel that had been gathered. Aside from looking a little surprised, nothing came across on her face. But her fingers gripped the fabric of her skirt beneath the table.

\---

Sombra’s stomach sank slightly and her eyes went to the woman beside her. It didn’t surprise her. Truthfully… she saw his point. She’d seen the evidence with her own eyes and it did seem like something had happened to him. Something that wasn’t him putting on an act for the sake of ‘earning trust’ as he’d claimed. 

“That’s a shame,” she spoke up, her voice light. “He’s pretty valuable, no?” 

\---

“Very. It’s a great loss to our organization.” It would be a long time before they found someone quite so malicious or deadly. But they would. “You will have backup, but you two are expected to carry out the main infiltration. We’d like to keep this quiet so we’re securing you entrance into the ventilation system.” He was looking at Widow, then his eyes went to Sombra. “You will be needed to get her clearance to the area she needs and to keep the alarms silenced while your backup keeps security distracted.”

\---

“Easy.” Especially now that she had access to their system. At least, enough access to control their security system. It had been a lot of work to get to this point, but now that it was done, this would be extremely simple for her. “When are we going?”

\---

“Tomorrow.” Before word could get into Overwatch if they had a mole of their own. “There’s a vent in the room he’s being held in. When you arrive, Widow, you’ll signal Sombra. She’ll turn off the cameras and open his cell door. That’s when you’ll take your shot.” He watched her and after an uncomfortable pause, she gave him the slightest of nods. “He’s your primary target, but if you get a shot on Dr. Zieglar, kill her.” It was wishful thinking that she’d be able to get them both, but that would be ideal.

\---

“Entendido.” She knew that after this meeting was over, they’d be given a much more intensive briefing on what they were to be doing. She wasn’t fond of this, but she understood why it had come to this. She was mostly curious what Widowmaker was thinking. If she would even be able to do it, or if they were going to end up needing a different plan. She didn’t really want to have to kill him herself… She’d rather that responsibility rest on someone else’s shoulders. She wasn’t an assassin and she didn’t like to kill unless she had to.

\---

The meeting was going well enough. But whether or not they would actually perform their mission well could be a different story. “It’s never easy to take out one of our own. But trials like these make us stronger.” Any time Talon lost a weak link, they grew stronger. Even when it was someone as valuable as Reaper. “If you don’t have any other questions, you’re dismissed. You’ll be given your mission details this evening.”

\---

Sombra didn’t hesitate to rise out of her seat. She strolled out of the room, but once she was outside, she leaned into the wall by the door, waiting for Widowmaker to step out. She wanted to talk to her. To make sure she could do this.

\---

Widowmaker was cool and collected when she rose out of her seat and started out. It was no surprise that Sombra was waiting for her outside, but she only spared her a glance before she kept walking. She wanted to talk, no doubt, but they couldn’t talk here. 

\---

She trailed after her, her feet swinging casually. One could say there was a bounce in her step as she followed her. She didn’t doubt that Widow knew what she wanted, so she figured she’d take them someplace they could talk.

\---

Widow lead her outside and when she found a quiet enough place, she opened her purse and took out a cigarette. She turned to Sombra as she lit it and took a deep drag. “...I wasn’t expecting that.”

\---

“Me either.” Or at least, she’d hoped it wouldn’t come to that. It wasn’t that she was especially fond of the man, but… she liked him enough. Enough to give him a hard time. To be amused by his frustration. “You gonna be able to do it?” 

\---

“I have to.” It was an order. She’d never disobeyed a direct order from Talon. She’d never tried. She’d never wanted to. But this was different. She wanted to bring herself to say no. “I _have_ to.”

\---

She nodded. “If it makes you feel better, he’s right.” That he’d been compromised. She wondered if that would make it easier for her. To know that her partner was no longer so loyal. Not that he’d ever struck her as particularly loyal, but he’d been plainly on their side the entire time she’d worked with him.

\---

“It doesn’t matter.” The long drags on her cigarette were the only signs of stress she was giving off. It was oddly frustrating that she couldn’t bring herself to be upset about this. She _knew_ she should be. She didn’t want to do this and she should be upset. “Want to get a coffee?” It was the first time she’d asked Sombra to go anywhere. But she wanted to get out and take her mind off of things before they got their mission details later. 

\---

She offered her a sympathetic smile. “Si vamos.” She looped her arm around Widow’s and started to walk with her. She could finish her cigarette and then they could get her a coffee. The poor spider.


	43. Chapter 43

It was a lot harder to move silently in a ventilation system than anyone gave assassins credit for. It had been a journey to crawl her way into the heart of Overwatch’s medical wing, but Sombra had been a reliable partner, opening doors and disabling cameras whenever she had to slip out of the vents to get into the next area. 

But now she was where she needed to be. She was peering out through metal slats into the room that housed Reaper. Only...he wasn’t like she remembered. His mask was off and she could see the extent to which that bitch doctor had “fixed” him. It was no wonder Talon was concerned. No wonder they wanted him dead. 

He was still her partner and even seeing him comfortably chatting up the good doctor, she still didn’t want to do it. Her mouth was dry and her hands were unusually unsteady as she settled the muzzle of her rifle through the metal slats, finding him through her scope. Her heart gave an uneasy quiver knowing the moment was near. “Now.” She whispered, knowing that though it was almost inaudible, Sombra would hear. The cameras would go dead and the cell door would open. She’d have a clear shot. 

\---

Right on cue, the cell door slid open. That, of course, drew Reaper’s attention. He startled, since the door slid right into where he was leaning as he had to jerk out of the way. He blinked at it. It had never been opened while he was so close to it and… there was no reason for it to open. He didn’t jump to his feet to utilize the opportunity, though, he simply looked at Mercy questioningly. As if she would have the answer.

\---

It was her moment. She drew a slow breath to steady her hands, her aim still firmly on Reaper. She had to. It was an order. She _had_ to. She thought of the way he had laid at her side that night on the rooftop. That comfortable silence they could share. The way he’d opened up to her about his needs and how much they had both enjoyed sating him. He was her partner. Compromised or not, that hadn’t changed. At the very last moment, she shifted her aim to Mercy instead. This mission didn’t have to be a complete failure. She exhaled and pulled the trigger. 

Mercy was every bit as perplexed as Reaper by the door opening. She twisted back to look at the cameras questioningly and if she hadn’t turned at that moment, Widowmaker’s bullet would have been the end of her. Instead, the bullet grazed her, sending blinding white heat across her right cheek. She could hardly react in her shock, her hand raising to touch the blood on her cheek as Widow kicked out the grate and hopped down from the vent.

\---

The sound of the gun put him on high alert and when he saw the sniper burst through the vent, his eyes widened. “Widow?!” Holy shit, this was it. This time he did jump to his feet, rushing out of the cell. Why had she…? It struck him a moment later and he looked down at Mercy, seeing the way she was touching her face. “Angela…” He looked back up at Widowmaker and then quickly stepped in between them.

\---

“Good to see you too.” It really was good to see him, but she was already raising her rifle and training it on the unsteady doctor trying to orient herself behind Reaper. “I missed. Move and I’ll finish this so we can go.”

\---

“No,” he snapped sharply. He put out a hand in front of him, as if he could stop her with no more than a gesture. “You’re not hurting her.” He made sure she was behind him, in case telling the assassin no wasn’t enough.

\--- 

Was he really that far gone? “Why? ...Do you want to do it?” Maybe that was it. She lowered her aim, considering taking out one of her legs instead. “I can still her and you can do it with your bare hands if you like.”

Angela was starting to get her wits about her. Talon was here. They had come for Gabriel. “It’s okay. Go with her. I’ll help you get out.” She didn’t seem aware they were debating whether or not she was going to be shot again.

\---

Before he could answer, he heard Angela behind him. What she had to say hit him hard and he turned to her, looking at her with confliction. There was a long moment where he simply stared at her, then he stepped up to her. “Come with me.” He was leaving, there was no question of that, but he didn’t want this to be the last time he saw her.

\---

Angela was still a little dazed, her ears ringing from the brush with the bullet, but her heart pounded as she met his eyes. He wanted her to go with him. She could stay with him and there would be no more rules, no more bars between them. ...But he was going to Talon. “I...I want to, but I can’t go to Talon.” 

Widowmaker couldn’t believe what she was seeing. She lowered her rife and put a hand on his shoulder. “We have to go. We don’t have time for this.”

\---

He rolled his shoulder. “Hang on, Widow,” he growled, not willing to give up so simply. He grabbed Mercy’s cheeks and tugged her in by them, looking at her with the height of intensity. “Angela, come with me,” he repeated, his words earnest. Desperate. “We’ll figure it out.” 

\---

The way he grabbed her made her cheek flare with pain, but she didn’t notice. She was so enthralled by him. She’d never heard that tone in his voice and she knew she was helpless. That there was no way she could refuse him and have the next time she saw him be on the opposite side of a battlefield. She nodded weakly. 

Widowmaker switched off her earpiece. She’d hoped that maybe Talon would be accepting of her bringing Reaper back alive if she brought Dr. Zieglar’s head on a platter, but this was getting ridiculous. “Listen to me. They sent me here to kill you. Her too, if I had a chance, but the hit was on you. We have to get out. Now.”

\---

That was enough to tear his eyes from the woman in his hands. He looked at Widowmaker, his brows furrowing harshly. “You’re here to… kill me?” That struck him for multiple reasons, the most being that she had _not_ killed him when she clearly could have. He was confused and… indignant.

\---

“Obviously not. Those were my orders, but I’m breaking you out.” She would still really like to kill the bleeding blonde bitch in his grasp though. “You’re my partner.”

\---

His entire body softened. “Widow…” He shook the thoughts tumbling through his head. There wasn’t time. He needed to focus. “What’s the plan?” Clearly not Talon’s plan, so what was her intention? How were they going to get out of here and away from Talon’s reach?

\---

“Well, I was going to kill her and take her key cards.” Clearly she wasn’t about to allow that. She switched to her close-range rifle and pointed it at Angela. “So instead, she’ll be our ‘hostage’. She’ll get us out of here the best route you know of, won’t you?” And if she acted up, she would get to shoot her. 

Mercy looked at her wide-eyed and nodded. “Okay…” She just had to think of the way to get them out with the least interference.

\---

“Should’ve brought me a gun,” he grumbled, but he slid his arm around Angela’s waist, pulling her into his side. He intended on keeping her close. Both because of the resistance they might run into… and because of Widowmaker. He took a step towards the door, but remembered his mask lying on the floor in his cell. 

He ended up dragging the doctor with him as he went for it and after fixing it in place, he finally made his way out of the room.

\---

Widowmaker approached them when Reaper pulled the doctor back out of the cell and snatched the badge from the front of her lab coat. It would open any door in the medical ward. “Show us the way out.” 

“This way…” Angela started forward, but she stayed pressed into Reaper’s side. She had a feeling that if Widow could get a clear shot on her, she’d take it. Maybe they could swing by her room. It was hard to fathom just walking out with nothing. 

\---

It was almost bizarre to him, to be moving down a hallway that he’d fantasized about storming down for months. Of course, when he’d imagined it, he’d pictured having his shotguns in hand and taking out everyone he came across, but it was still hitting him that he was free. Whether or not they got out of the facility, he was free from his cell. If they caught him, they would simply kill him this time. 

“Who’s here?” He knew damn well that Widowmaker wasn’t here on her own, just as she hadn’t been before.

\---

“Sombra.” Who would probably never forgive her for this turn of events. “A small team is creating a diversion at the east entrance.”

That was helpful information. As they got further down the hallway, Mercy could hear the commotion. No alarms, but running footfalls, distant bullets, and confused shouts. There weren’t going to be any detours. They had to get out. She started to walk faster, directing Widowmaker whenever she needed to scan the badge to get them through a door.

\---

He figured. That was who had opened the door, undoubtedly. He wondered if she was watching them. If she knew where they were. If she was reporting their location to Talon. He had to expect they’d meet some resistance from both organizations - though it was still jarring to him that Talon had put a hit on him - and he wished more than ever that he had a gun.

He could hear the sounds of fighting as well, but it seemed they were moving away from it. Going west, presumably. It was perhaps a little ironic when they turned a corner and, not unlike the night he’d been caught in their trap, he found himself face to face with a cowboy. Except this time, a flashbang didn’t go off in his face. 

McCree’s eyes widened when he saw the three of them in front of him. It took but a moment for him to assess what he was seeing and he jerked back, drawing his pistol and pointing it at them. “Let her go,” he ordered, his eyes flicking between the two that were clearly holding her hostage. 

\---

At the same moment he drew his pistol, Widowmaker raised her gun and pointed it at Mercy’s temple. It was more than a little awkward with Reaper in her way. “Move or I’ll put another bullet in her.” She’d love to. 

“It’s okay, Jesse.” Mercy insisted, not looking especially worried about the gun pointed at her. “They just want to go and I don’t want anyone to get hurt. It’s okay.” 

\---

As soon as the gun was pointed at her, Reaper was quick to yank her out of harm's way. To his other side. “Don’t do that,” he warned her. If he could trust her not to pull the trigger, he would let her. “Out of our way, McCree.”

McCree looked between the three of them, confused. “No. You let her go. Now.” He trained his pistol at the sniper, since she was the only one that seemed to have a weapon. “Let her go and… I’ll let you go.” If it got Angela out safe, then he would let them walk by.

\---

Angela pressed into Reaper’s side, also not trusting Widow to take the opportunity to shoot her. It was sweet that he wouldn’t let Widow even pretend to hold her hostage. It was sweeter still that McCree was offering to let them go. “Please put the gun down, Jesse. They don’t want to hurt me, they just want to get out safely. If you want to help me, just try to make sure no one is tailing us so we can escape.”

Widowmaker sighed and didn’t bother to point her gun at McCree. Without the hostage as leverage, she was as good as dead if he meant to shoot her. 

\---

“...We?” He looked from her to Reyes. He frowned, not having seen the man since he’d tried to talk to him last. It wasn’t a conversation that had gone well or gotten him anywhere, but ever since then he’d thought about it a lot. That also hadn't gotten him anywhere, but he was torn. Slowly, he eased his gun down. “Reyes, I swear if you hurt her…” He didn’t look like he wanted to hurt her, but they were holding her hostage. Sort of. 

“Shove it up your ass, McCree,” he snapped back, shoving past him. 

\---

“It’s okay.” She said again as they went past him. She’d write to him when they were someplace safe so he knew she was alright. “Adieu, cowboy.” Widowmaker said almost playfully as they passed by. They’d failed miserably to use the doctor as a hostage, but they’d still gotten through.

\---

He could feel the eyes on their back, but as long as he didn’t raise his gun again, it didn’t matter. Once they turned another hall, he started to breathe a little easier, though they weren’t in the clear. Nowhere near it. They wouldn’t be until they were out of this place. He hated that he didn’t have his abilities… No gun, no smoke. He was at a huge disadvantage. 

\---

It felt like ages before they escaped all the hallways and were out in the light of day. Even then, it would be a task to get off the grounds. “I’ll get on the roof and look for our best route from here.” Widow said when they had found a nook outside the building to hide against. “Then…” She looked between them. “Then we can take her with us to Talon. They might let both of us live if we take her prisoner.” She could be quite useful to them.

\---

“...I’m not going to Talon. They sent you to _kill_ me.” He wanted to know why, but those questions could come when they had time to sit down somewhere and regroup. He didn’t know what he was going to do, but he wasn’t going to give them an opportunity to finish what they started.

\---

“...I see.” She could hardly argue with that, but it just felt so wrong that she couldn’t take him home after this, even after busting him out successfully. “Then I will see you two off safely before I go.” 

Mercy was listening to them, still pressed to Gabriel’s side and holding the fabric of her sleeve against her cheek, though it had stopped bleeding for the most part during their escape. He wasn’t going to Talon, that was a relief. But she wondered where he planned to go instead. 

\---

He stared at her. It was really good to see her face. A friendly face. He couldn’t focus on that, though. “...You can’t. You can’t go back. You know what they’ll do to you. You disobeyed them.” It was remarkable, really. That she’d saved him instead of doing what she was told. 

“Just come with us, alright?”

\---

She looked at him as if she couldn’t understand what he was saying. He wanted her to abandon Talon with him? “I deliberately failed my mission. I deserve whatever punishment they give me.” Whether it was death or just more intensive reconditioning. It would be terrible either way, but she wasn’t capable of dreading it. 

\---

It was strange to listen to her speak so simply about it, but clearly she was capable of thinking for herself. Even if it was hard for her. “You failed because you…” He stopped. What was he even saying? Because she what? Cared about him? Clearly she did, but it was difficult to wrap his head around. “You care more about me than you do about them. So come with me.” He honestly didn’t know if she _could_ , but he had to try. Maybe there was some way to help her and make it so she didn’t want to run back to where they would harm her for helping him.

\---

“I have to go back, Reaper. I disobeyed them. They have to correct me.” But he was right. She did care about him. She shouldn’t be able to, but she did and that was why she couldn’t pull the trigger. 

“You disobeyed them, but you did the right thing.” Mercy chimed in, hoping to help him. She wasn’t especially fond of the idea of Widowmaker sticking with them after shooting her, but clearly she needed help. “You don’t need to be punished. I think once you’re away from them for a little while, you’ll see that.” She reached out gingerly to touch Widow’s arm and the other woman recoiled as if the touch burned her, but her face had still softened a little so she seemed to be listening.

\---

Unlike with Angela, he couldn’t just grab her cheeks and insist she come with him. It wouldn’t work. He glanced down at the doctor as she tried to reason with her and though he appreciated the effort, he was uncertain it would mean anything to her. “Remember what you told me? The natural way of things? Most people choose their alignment? Choose. You can choose.”

\---

“I don’t get to choose…?” It was meant to be a statement, but it came out more like a question. She wasn’t supposed to choose, but she’d chosen not to shoot him, despite everything in her saying that she had to. “I’ll find us a way out.” She said and shot out her grappling hook, escaping to the rooftop to scout. 

When Widow was gone, Mercy looked up to Reaper. “I think she’ll come with us. She wants to.”

\---

He hummed. He wasn’t so sure. His eyes lingered on where she disappeared for a while, but eventually he tore them down. “Are you okay?” He lifted his hand to her cheek and brushed the wound. The thought that she might have taken the bullet to her head made him ill. It had been a while since the thought of someone dying had resonated with him. At least, resonated with him negatively. The last time, well, the last time had been with Widowmaker and before that, he couldn’t say. 

\---

It was still surreal to be outside with him. So surreal that she hardly minded how much her face ached. “I’m okay. I’m sure it’s nothing I can’t heal up quickly.” It would be a hell of a lot easier if she had any of her tools. “...I still have my ear, right?” She wasn’t sure how bad it looked and her ear was too painful for her to want to touch it. It was burned from the bullet going by, but intact. 

\---

The question was oddly endearing. He went so far to make sure that she did in fact have her ear before he nodded. “Still there.” He tipped his mask up so he could study at her without it, before leaning in to kiss her softly.

\---

That was good, though she could have rebuilt her ear if necessary. It was funny to be on the other end of an examination when he checked her over and it was all the better when it ended in a kiss. She was still a little in shock that she was in the process of leaving her life as she knew it behind, but the kiss was a nice enough thing to focus on instead.

\---

He was glad that she’d agreed to come with him. She was his now. He’d stolen her from right underneath them and though that wasn’t _why_ he’d done it, it was satisfying all the same. She’d agreed even when she thought he was returning to Talon. Hell, when he’d still thought he was returning to Talon, until Widowmaker had informed him of what had happened. 

He didn’t draw out the kiss for long. He couldn’t let himself be distracted. He had to stay alert - they weren’t safe and at any moment, someone could come after them. They would likely have a lot of people after them before this was through.

\---

When the kiss broke, she looked back up to the rooftop. She could hear distant gunfire, but she didn’t think any of it was coming from Widow’s rifle. A few minutes passed before the sniper slid back down a silvery wire to join them. "This way." She said and wasted no time in leading them off. The course was clear but it wouldn’t be for long. 

\---

He couldn’t help but pull her a little closer when Widow returned. Just in case. When she started to lead them off, he was relieved. “Toss the earpiece,” he advised her - he would feel a little better about her running off by herself if she didn’t have a way to communicate with Talon. 

\---

Talon could probably track her through the earpiece. It was the right thing to do, but throwing away her means of communication with Talon felt _wrong_. So wrong that she initially just continued forward as if she hadn’t heard him. But eventually she plucked the device from her ear and tossed it aside. 

\---

He saw where it landed and made a point to step on it as he passed. He wasn’t wearing any shoes so it wasn’t pleasant, but he felt the plastic crack under his weight. He felt so strange. It was almost like things were normal, running off with Widowmaker, but things couldn’t be more wrong. 

\---

Soon they were at the wall that bordered the grounds. Widowmaker shot her grappling hook to scale to the top quickly. Then she turned back, using the line to secure herself and reaching down. "Hand me the doctor." She was sure he would be reluctant, but it was the fastest way to get them all up there.

\---

Mercy used the boost that he gave her and reached for the sniper's outstretched hand. She had no choice but to trust her. 

Widowmaker grabbed her and with a grunt of effort, hoisted her up onto the wall. She met her eyes briefly and frowned. This was all her fault. It was incredibly tempting to shove her off the other side. There was a beat of hesitation, then she suddenly herself down again and reached for her partner to pull him up. 

\---

He took her hand and for the first time it struck him how cold she was. It was… unpleasant. Once he was on top of the wall, he looked behind him, scanning the grounds. In the far distance, he could see that something was going on, but nothing that was an immediate threat to them. “Angela… you gave me the shot during the last procedure, didn’t you?” He’d assumed so, but he wasn’t entirely sure. He wanted to know how long it had been so he could have an idea of how long it would take for him to be able to test his abilities.

How convenient would it be if they came back today? Or tomorrow?

\---

"Yes." She said apologetically. "It'll be a few days at least." She'd never waited long enough between his shots to find out exactly how long it would take to wear off. 

"We need to keep moving." Widow didn't know what they were talking about, but she imagined it had to do with whatever she'd done to cripple her partner. The urge to shove her off the wall hit her again, but she controlled herself enough to hand the doctor the wire before she pushed her. The surprised yelp was satisfying, but the doctor was safely repelling down the other side. "You're next, Reaper. I'll cover you."

\---

Hopefully they came back at all. He watched as Angela was pushed over the edge and he tensed slightly, until he saw that she was safely making her way to the ground. He looked at Widow and gave her a nod, following her down. Once they were out of the facility, he wasn’t feeling as protective, so he didn’t pull her in against him again. 

He waited for Widow to join him and once she was there, he spoke up, “We need to leave the country.” Not that it would stop either Overwatch or Talon from tracking them down - they were both global organizations - but the more space the better. 

\---

"We do, but that will be interesting with no money and no passports." Widow said with a frown. "For now, as far away as we can get from here will have to be enough."

"I could call in a favor from a friend." Mercy offered. "Someone outside of Overwatch might send transport for us."

\---

“So could I.” He had connections outside of Talon. He’d gotten up to a lot over the years and a lot of people owed him. Widowmaker was right, though. For now, they needed to put as much distance as they could between them and this place. After, they could figure out how they were going to get out.

\---

Widowmaker nodded, intending on using Reaper’s connections. No one Dr. Zieglar called could be trusted. She pulled down her grappling hook and tucked it away. "Let's keep moving. We need to find you a gun." It was unfortunately they hadn’t come across a corpse from the infiltration so he could loot it and feed. She was sure they'd been starving him. 

\---

He started forward, leading the way through the street and into an alley. Unfortunately they looked rather out of place. He wasn’t above robbing the first person they came across, if it meant money and other essentials. A phone, for example. They’d cross that hurdle when it came to it. 

\---

Now that they were out, Mercy stayed close to him but no longer pressed into his side. On the other side of the alley, she could see a man in a suit leaning against the wall, talking to someone on his phone. It was a promising start. "Let me go talk to him. I'll tell him I'm hurt and we need to make a call. I'm sure he'll help us." It wouldn't be hard to convince him while her hair was matted to her face with blood and her white coat was stained red on one side. 

"Not necessary." Widow had pulled out her rifle. She just needed to be careful not to hit his phone. 

\---

What great timing. It was as if it was meant to be. He looked between them and, considering the options, nodded at Widowmaker. That was the simpler one. Quicker, easier, and would result in more for them. A single call wasn’t enough for the danger it posed. Best they not leave behind anyone to remember them. 

\---

Mercy saw the exchange between them and shook her head. "Wait. Just give me a chance to -" She was cut off by the sound of the rifle and the man collapsed at the end of the alley. Widow walked past the pair of them with a little smirk. Hopefully the phone was intact. 

\---

He wasn’t so clueless as to know she wouldn’t like it, so he set a hand on her arm. “Stay here, I’ll be back.” He started to follow after Widowmaker, wanting to help her dig through the body for whatever there was to find.

\---

Mercy clenched her fists, but said nothing. This was far from the first time she'd been involved in needless killing and she was sure it was far from the last. 

Widowmaker knelt by the body when she reached it and took up his phone. Cracked, but serviceable. "Is your fleur délicate back there going to faint if you feed on him?" She asked when Reaper joined her, starting to rummage through the pockets of the suit. 

\---

He gave her a look, though she wouldn’t see it. “She’s not delicate.” She was… different than they were, but not delicate. He helped her dig and went so far as to check the size of the shoes. Close enough that he pulled them off and jammed his own feet into them. A little tight, but it would do. “Besides, I don’t feed anymore.” Not that way, at least. 

\---

It would have been wonderful if this man would have been kind enough to be carrying a pistol or even a pocket knife. But they had no such luck. She took his wallet while Reaper pushed on his shoes. Not a large amount of cash, but better than nothing. "...Because of what she did to you?" They didn’t have time to discuss it now, but she wanted to know the extent of what had been done to him. 

\---

“Yes.” When they had everything there was to take, he stopped to look at her. “Widow-” He trailed off and then shook his head. “Let’s go.” He started back the way they came. They could take another route so that Angela wouldn’t have to walk past the corpse. 

\---

It was good to hear him say her name again. She knew he wanted to talk to her as much as she wanted to talk to him, but it had to wait until they were far enough away. She caught his arm when he started away from her. "It's too dangerous to backtrack. We need to go forward, just have her follow us." Or better yet, don't. 

\---

He hesitated, then looked to where the doctor was waiting. “Angela, come on.” He jerked his head in their direction, waiting for her to join them. 

\---

The doctor was stiff, but she joined them without a word. She kept her eyes away from the body on the ground. He was just an innocent man minding his own business that wouldn't be going home to his family tonight. 

Widowmaker jingled the keys she'd taken off his body. "Hopefully he parked close." And on the side of the alley they were headed.

\---

When she was close enough, he put his arm around her again. “Hopefully.” At least the key had a fob that would beep if they got close enough to it. That would make their search much, much easier.

\---

Mercy settled in against his side as soon as he put his arm around her. She wanted to keep moving while her adrenaline was still high. She was tired and she knew once they slowed down, the shock that she'd just abandoned everyone and everything at Overwatch was going to set in. 

Widow pushed forward, checking that the street was clear before leading the way out. She tried the fob and frowned when none of the cars responded. They'd have to pick a direction and keep trying. 

\---

It was a coin flip and after looking either way, indicated to the left. “That way.” He could be wrong, but he’d long learned to trust his gut. Rarely did it fail him. He started down the road, alert to everything around them. It would be nice to savor the evening air. The slight breeze and the sky above, but that too would have to wait.

\---

Widowmaker trusted his gut as well and followed in the direction he chose without question. It paid off because it wasn't too far down that street when she heard a distant beep respond to her pressing the fob. "La fortune nous sourit." They'd be able to put in some miles between them and both organizations that would be hunting them. 

\---

He smirked. Like it was meant to be. Normally he’d insist on driving, but Widowmaker had the keys and right now, he’d rather make sure the doctor was okay. So once the car was unlocked, he tugged her into the back seat with him so she could get comfortable and stretch out if she wanted to.

\---

Widow had assumed he would just settle Mercy into the back seat and she frowned when he ended up sitting with her. He _always_ drove. She settled into the driver's seat and turned on the car, glad to see it had a decent amount of gas. She put it in drive, not having any destination in mind. 

Mercy took the invitation and stretched out across the seats. She'd had a long day even before she got shot and lost a fair amount of blood. When she had the sound of the engine to help cover her voice, she tugged him down to whisper in his ear. "Are you sure she won't take us to Talon?" She'd said for herself that she didn't think she could choose. 

\---

He looked at Widow through the rearview mirror. “Pretty sure.” She didn’t have her earpiece, so unless this was something elaborate that had been planned while she scouted, he didn’t think she had anywhere to rendezvous with them. Even if she tried, he felt like he would catch on and be able to stop her. 

It was hitting him even harder that he was really out of there. All of the details that surrounded that were still in the back of his mind, but overshadowed by the fact that he was free.

\---

"Pretty sure will have to do." She rested her head on his shoulder, though it took her a couple tries to find a way to do it that wasn't painful. She wished she had her staff. Her money, her documents. Even the book she'd been reading. She didn’t know when she'd see her friends again, but she still intended to write to them as soon as she could so they would know she was alright.

\---

Though he kept a hand around her, his eyes were focused on the roads. He had a feeling that right now Widow was simply driving. Eventually they’d have to choose a destination. He tried to think of who he knew in the area and what favors he could cash in. This was so much simpler when he was simply returning to Talon. Those fucking bastards. It wasn’t a surprise that they would do something like this, but the audacity to do it to him? 

\---

Mercy’s eyes closed, lulled by the motion of the car. It didn’t matter to her where they went. They weren't going to Talon and regardless of where they went, Gabriel would keep her safe. 

Widowmaker was feeling more anxious the further she drove. She was getting too far away from Talon. It was one thing to travel the world on their missions, but this was different. This was fleeing the people she belonged to when she had already disobeyed orders. She fidgeted in her seat as she drove, her breathing uneven. 

\---

At first, he didn’t notice her agitation, but the longer she drove, the more he was attuned to her discomfort. “Widow, you okay?” Normally she was calm and collected, so… he just wanted to make sure she wasn’t about to do anything stupid.

\---

"I'm fine." Her voice was as cool and even as ever, despite the distress her body gave away. "We just need to get further away." She hoped it would get easier once it was no longer so tempting to just turn around and go home. 

\---

He kept his eyes on her for a while, watching for any sign of something wrong. He gave it an hour or so before he spoke again. “Pull over.” They’d made a fair amount of progress on the freeway and they had hit a patch of road where there was nothing around them for miles. 

\---

Widow did as he asked, though she wasn't sure why he wanted to stop. She could put many more miles in before she would need to rest. Once she parked, she turned in her seat to look at her partner. The doctor appeared to be asleep on his shoulder which had at least made for a quiet drive. 

\---

He jerked his to the side, silently telling her to get out of the car. He opened his own door and then eased Mercy down so she could lay in his seat. He tried not to wake her as he slipped out and shut the door behind him. He leaned into it, arms crossing.

\---

Widow joined him on his side of the car, glad that Mercy was asleep and wouldn't be part of any decision making. "Where should we go?" He had to know someone they could turn to. They needed fast transportation before anyone tailing them could catch up. 

\---

“I’ll make a call and take us where we need to go.” He still wasn’t sure where they’d end up, but he at least had a plan for the inbetween. “Do you know why they decided to kill me?” He wanted to understand everything that had happened today.

\---

"You got too close to her." She threw a disdainful look over her shoulder into the back seat. "They decided there was no safe way to extract you and they needed to kill you before you spilled your guts to her."

\---

He frowned. “...Was it the spy they sent in?” If that was the case, they’d turned on him in just the last couple of weeks. She was the only person he’d spoken to, so… she must have been the one to tell them what she’d seen. He shook his head to himself, his teeth clenching. “They were really so certain I wasn’t just gathering intel? It was safer to _kill_ me?” Clearly he had gotten close to her, but that hadn’t meant he was going to cross Talon.

\---

"They hacked the surveillance of your cell too." It was the only way Sombra could have known he'd truly been compromised. "Obviously I didn't agree with their decision. I didn't kill you." But she would have loved to kill the little whore responsible. 

\---

He wasn’t convinced. If that was true, they’d seen as much as Overwatch had seen. Not enough to turn on him. He huffed. “What about the first time? What happened the first time?” Obviously they had come up with a better plan this time. They were better at trying to murder him than trying to save him.

\---

She shook her head. "It was a foolish move on my part. I was frustrated that Talon wasn't doing anything. I thought I could get deep enough to break you out on my own. I probably just made the security around you even tighter."

\---

He stared at her. “...You came by yourself?” Without being told to? He’d given Angela so much shit for thinking she’d ever do such a thing and that was exactly what she’d done?

\---

She met his gaze. "It was irrational, I know, but no one was taking any action to get you out." When they finally did take action, it was to kill him. 

\---

“Why weren’t they?” He was still taking in what she had done. Twice she’d stuck her neck out for him in ways he would have never anticipated. Apparently Mercy’s romantic thoughts weren’t so far off. Her loyalty to him was startling and he was at a loss of how to address it.

\---

"They usually don’t tell me why they do or don't do anything. They just give me orders." She shrugged. "They said they were just gathering intel and searching for weaknesses in their system. It sounded like a weak reason to wait around to me."

\---

His hand rose and he rubbed at his forehead through his mask. “I’ll kill them,” he muttered to himself, not intending to take this lying down. It wasn’t like what Overwatch had done to him… but it wasn’t far off, either. He looked at her again, this time focusing on her. “...Thank you.” He was feeling strangely overwhelmed by her. By what she’d done for him. 

\---

Widow studied him, liking to imagine that he still looked the same way he used to beneath his mask. "You don't need to thank me. I'm your partner."

\---

“No, I do.” Part of him hated this. The emotion of it. Stronger than that, though, was his appreciation of her. He’d never appreciated her like he did now. “I haven’t given you enough credit.” Every time he’d talked about her with Angela, he’d always dismissed her emotions. Her ability to think for herself. He still didn't know how far it went, but clearly when it came to him, she had a mind of her own. He’d never felt closer to her and finally it hit him that she _was_ his friend. His only friend.

\---

"Then...you're welcome." It was clear she was a little uncertain of how to process this gratitude from him. But her tone was softer than usual. "It's good to have you back." Even if now they were running for their lives. 

\---

He looked up at the sky for a time, simply took it in. Silence had always been so comfortable with her. They couldn’t stay here forever, though, and he held out his hand. “Give me the phone.” He’d make a call and then they would be on their way.

\---

She took out the phone and went to hand it over, but she held it in her palm, not releasing it immediately. "May I ask a favor?" She wasn't in the habit of asking anyone for anything, but maybe he'd like to repay the large favor she'd granted him. 

\---

“...At this point I owe you several.” He kept his hand on it, waiting for her to tell him what she wanted. After this, there was little he wouldn’t do for her, so he was sure he could make whatever she wanted work.

\---

She supposed that was true. She hadn’t cashed in on the previous favors either. When she spoke again, her tone was grave. "Don't let me go back." It was hard to even say it aloud. "I want to, but if I do, they're going to kill me. Or worse. So don't let me go."

\---

He looked at her intently. He hadn’t intended on letting her, but… if she had insisted, really insisted, he wouldn’t have stopped her. Now he would. “Okay, you’re not going back.” She was stuck with him. At least until he thought she wasn’t a flight risk. Then if she wanted to leave him to go off on her own, he’d let her.

\---

The corners of her lips turned up slightly. "Merci." She released the phone then and stepped away from him. She was reassured that he would stop her if she couldn't resist the pull anymore and he could carry on with finding them someplace to go. 

\---

The call only took a few minutes. When he was done, he threw the phone down on the ground and stomped on it. “Keys,” he called, holding out his hand and asking her to toss them to him. He’d take over driving.

\---

She tossed him the keys and went to the passenger side. She wasn't about to ride in the backseat and cuddle up to his little flower back there. This was how it was supposed to be. If only the Overwatch healer behind them was dead instead of unconscious. 

\---

He made his way to the driver seat and got in. He had to make a few adjustments to the seat and mirror, large as he was, but with that taken care of, he turned on the car and took off down the highway. His eyes flicked to the mirror as he drove, making sure Mercy was still asleep. “It’ll be awhile before we get there, but they’ll give us a place to stay for the night and a way out of the country.”

\---

"Will they have weapons?" Now that they had some cash and transportation, getting Reaper armed again was the next priority. She frowned at him thoughtfully, wondering if he needed a place to stay these days, or if he could have driven straight through the night like before. If he needed food and sleep like any normal man. 

\---

“Yes.” Nothing quite like his Hellfire shotguns, but he’d be able to procure them again eventually. He’d gone through enough of them through the years that he knew how to get his hands on another pair. “And something for us to wear.” They had to try to blend in. An easier task for himself all of a sudden, but… he glanced over at Widowmaker. 

He wondered what Angela might be able to do for her.

\---

She highly doubted they had anything she would want to wear. She was going to miss her dresses. Widow glanced back over her shoulder when she heard Mercy shift and groan in the backseat, but she still looked to be asleep. "If you won't let me kill her, we should at least drop her off with your contact. She will only slow us down."

\---

Again, he looked in the mirror, but when she didn’t sit up, he focused on the road ahead. “No, I want her to stay with me.” He knew he didn’t sound like himself saying that, but it was what he wanted.

\---

She had hoped it would be that easy. That he just wanted her alive and out of Overwatch. "Why? This is her fault. _All_ of it is her fault." His imprisonment, the changes in him, Talon turning on him. 

\---

She was right. It was entirely her fault, but… as angry as he was with her for that, she’d helped him as much as she’d hurt him. “She’s mine,” he said simply, not completely understanding his feelings, but not shying away from them.

\---

She sighed and shook her head. "I hope you come out of whatever spell she has you under. She's going to get us all killed if she throws a fit every time we have to kill someone."

\---

“She didn’t throw a fit.” She took it well, all things considered. She hadn’t flipped out once all was said and done. “Look, she helped me and she snuck around with me behind Overwatch’s back. She chose me over them. Like how you chose me over Talon. I trust her.”

\---

"She didn't help you." She changed him, but she didn't help him. "She's one of them. I think she’ll run right back to them the first chance she gets."

\---

“She’s not.” He trusted her. He didn’t think she would turn on him, not after everything that had happened over the last few months. He looked over at her again. “You just trust me.”

\---

She nodded. "I trust you." But she wasn’t going to trust the doctor. Hopefully he'd come to his senses and they would get rid of her before they left the country. 

\---

He left it at that, focusing on driving and sorting through his thoughts. It was another hour or so before they arrived at their destination. “...I’ll be back.” He needed to meet up with his contact by himself and then they’d be able to rest up. “You’ll be okay with her?” 

\---

She was a little surprised that he wasn’t going to sling the doctor over his shoulder to avoid leaving them alone. She appreciated his trust and for that reason, as much as she'd like to put another bullet into the pretty blonde in the back, she nodded. "I'll be on my best behavior."

\---

He stepped out of his car and it was a while before he returned, carrying a manila envelope and a pair of keys. He opened the back door and leaned in to nudge the doctor. “Come on, we have to go inside.”

\---

Widow got out of the car and waited on him to rouse the other woman. Mercy groaned when she was nudged. Her face ached and she couldn’t immediately remember why. "Gabriel?"

Widow rolled her eyes. It was fine when Sombra called him by his old name because she did it to annoy him. 

\---

“Come on,” he repeated, offering her his hand. He’d carry her if he had to, but he didn’t think that was particularly necessary. He could see she was tired so he’d let go to sleep as soon as they were inside.

\---

It didn't take her long to fully wake and she took his hand. She climbed out of the car, feeling a little better after the rest, and looked around. She had no idea where they were but that was probably for the best. 

\---

The town they were in was small and they were currently parked outside of what looked to be an apartment complex. He shut the door behind her and walked her to and up the stairs to the door that was theirs for the night. He unlocked it to let them in, his eyes scanning their surroundings. It was small and plainly furnished, but on the dining room table was everything he’d asked for. Clothes, guns, a pair of prepaid phones, and a medical kit.

“There’s only one bed,” he informed them, his eyes moving to Widowmaker. “Mind taking the couch?” 

\---

Widow went to inspect the things on the table that had been left for them and the question made her huff. "Fine. But that's one more favor you owe me." 

Mercy went straight to the medkit and carried it to the bathroom. She needed to see what had been done to her face and what she could do about it with the limited supplies she had.

\---

He chuckled. “Mhm.” It was _not_ a favor he owed her, but he still owed her enough that it wouldn’t matter either way. He watched Angela go off to the bathroom to take care of herself, then busied himself with looking over everything as well. “We have a flight tomorrow morning,” he informed Widow, setting the envelope down so he could inspect the guns.

\---

It wasn’t as bad as she might have thought. The wound on her cheek needed to be sutured one way or another - she was hoping for a skin sealant in the medkit so she wouldn't have to stitch into the burned skin around the gash the bullet had left. But she did in fact still have an ear. She needed to clean the wound before she worked on it, but all of her could use a good cleaning so she peeled off her bloodstained clothes and started the water in the shower. 

"The earlier the better." Widow was looking at the clothes and while they weren't exactly to her liking, there was a light blue dress in the pile and she picked it up to inspect it. 

\---

Pistols. They would do. He tucked the guns away and then offered her one of the phones. “Should have the numbers programmed into each other.” He hadn’t requested one for Mercy. She didn’t need one. He wasn’t worried about the clothes yet. He’d change in the morning. 

\---

Mercy stepped into the water, relieved to rinse the sticky dried blood away. As she scrubbed herself clean, the reality of the day began to set in for her. She'd given up her life. Everything she owned. Everything she'd been working on. All of her patients waiting for her to do her morning rounds the next day would be told she'd abandoned them. It was overwhelming, just how much she'd done in a decision she'd only had a moment to make. She felt tears as warm as the water on her skin roll down her cheeks. She'd made her choice and now she had to live with it. 

Widowmaker took the phone and looked it over. She'd noticed there were only two and that was satisfying. Maybe he didn't trust her that much after all. Barely audible over the running water she heard a soft sob from the other room. "Fleur délicate."

\---

He looked into the direction of the bathroom. ‘“Hmph.” Without another word, he made his way to it. He stepped inside and leaned into the counter, crossing his arms. He was uncertain if he wanted to interrupt her or not, so he stood there indecisively, listening.

\---

Mercy wept softly as she lathered shampoo into her hair a second time, not feeling like she was able to get all the matted blood out of it. She'd poured her heart into rehabilitating Gabriel. She’d gotten so far and it was going so well and now...everything had fallen apart. 

\---

He decided not to. He’d wait for her to finish and when she stepped out, he’d talk to her then. He wasn’t good with weeping women, but he had to find out why she was crying. To make sure she would be okay. That he could continue to trust her.

\---

Eventually the water was starting to run cold and she had to turn it off. She was as clean as she was going to get. Her tears had tapered to a stop by then and she was taking slow, even breaths to settle herself down. When she pulled the shower curtain and found Gabriel on the other side, she startled. "Oh! Sorry, I've been hogging the bathroom, haven't I?"

\---

He looked her over as she opened the curtain. “...You were crying.” It didn’t seem she was crying anymore, but she’d wept through the entire duration of the shower. 

\---

She was a little embarrassed that he'd heard her, but there was no point denying it. "I was." She reached for a towel nearby and started to pat herself dry. "I'm okay, just...a lot happened today. I lost all of my work."

\---

He watched her. Admiring her, but more concerned with their conversation than checking her out. “You’re certain?” He wanted to know now if she was regretting coming with him. Rather than later.

\---

"Certain." She didn't know what she would have done if instead she'd chosen to stay and let him go off without her. She would be heartbroken either way. When she was dry enough, she stepped out of the shower in front of him. "I hope I can patch this cheek up. It might scar." It wouldn’t if she had her tools. 

\---

“Then you’ll match me.” He reached out and ran his fingers down her side. Finally, there were no cameras. Though he supposed it was a little ironic that he was touching her in a bathroom of all places. “Come out when you’re done.” He left her to tend to herself, making his way to the kitchen.

He checked the fridge and saw that it was fully stocked. It had everything he could want, so naturally he went for one of the bottles of beer sitting to one side. He popped the top off, tossed his mask onto the counter, and took a deep drink, before continuing to rummage for something to eat.

\---

Widowmaker had been lounging on the couch, but joined him as he raided the fridge. "It's interesting to see you drinking a beer." Or anything that wasn't water, really. She leaned into him a little, craving contact with him after so much time away. 

\---

He looked over at her as she joined him. “Yeah, I’m still getting used to it.” Both eating itself and what came after. He was a little surprised when she leaned into him, but he took her weight. “Want one?”

\---

"Sure." She didn't indulge in drinking much, but Reaper was free. It was reason enough to celebrate with a beer. "I don't suppose your fleur can cook?"

\---

“I don’t know.” He used to be able to cook… somewhat. He’d never gone all out with it, but he’d been able to feed himself. He hadn’t in so long, though, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to anymore. Or at least be able to end up with anything good. “I guess we can ask her when she comes out.”

\---

Hopefully she was useful for _something_. In the meantime, she reached past him to pull out a packaged snack tray. That would tide them over for a bit. 

When Mercy came out of the bathroom, her cheek was delicately bandaged. Her clothes were ruined, though she still needed to collect everything from the pockets of her beloved lab coat, so she came out with the towel wrapped around her. She went straight to the table, trying to pick out something comfortable for the night that might fit her. 

\---

He grabbed a couple more beers and popped the tops on both of them. He offered one to Widow and then shut the door. The snack tray would be fine for now. He left the kitchen and when he saw Angela looking through the clothing, he held up the beer. “Want a drink?” If not, he’d drink it too.

\---

There was a large t-shirt that was probably meant as an option for Gabriel, but she dropped the towel and pulled it on. It wasn’t her nightgown, but it would be cozy enough. "Yes, thanks." She took the beer from him and took a deep drink. 

\---

“...Can you cook?” He wasn’t going to make her cook if she didn’t want to, but it would be nice if she did. If not, he’d just make something simple for himself. 

\---

"Not well. I can't even make coffee right." She continued to rummage and was pleased to find panties that looked about her size. They were very skimpy, undoubtedly chosen by a man. She set her beer aside long enough to step into them and slide them up beneath her shirt.

\---

He watched her pull on the panties and there was a pause before he remembered what meant to say. “Well, food’s in the fridge if you want anything.” For now, he’d dig into what Widow had pulled out and then maybe make himself a sandwich. He took another sip of the beer and looked to see where the sniper went. Apparently no where - she was still in the kitchen and when he found her there, he jerked his thumb behind him. 

“Bring it out?” He wanted to get off his feet and actually sit somewhere comfortable for the first time in ages.

\---

Widow had a mouthful of cheese wrapped in prosciutto, but she nodded. She supposed she could share. She went to him and handed over the snack tray so he could settle where he pleased. 

\---

He wasn’t expecting her to give it to him, but he took it and dropped down on the couch, setting it on his lap. He started to eat it eagerly, always looking forward to food now that he could eat it again. It was easier to focus on that than anything else - he wasn’t used to spending his free time with anyone. Even the time he’d spent with Angela had mostly been short and measured.

\---

Widowmaker frowned when he dug into the snacks so heartily. She wasn’t used to having to share food with him. She sat down beside him, snagging one of her favorites from the tray before he could get it. Mercy watched the pair of them, then slowly made her way over. She didn't want to crowd the couch so she perched herself to sit on the arm of it to give them a little space. 

\---

When Angela sat down, he lifted the tray to offer her some. Maybe she wasn’t hungry. It was late and she had probably already had her dinner. So had he, but it wasn’t stopping him. 

\---

She really wasn't hungry. But after the bleeding and adrenaline and everything else, she thought it might be a good idea to replenish her body with more than just booze. She grabbed a bite for herself and thanked him. 

\---

The silence was alright with him. He knew they were sitting on Widowmaker’s bed for the night and he’d have to go to the bedroom shortly so she could sleep, but for now this was comfortable. When the three of them emptied the tray, he nursed his beer a little longer, his free hand lifting to brush through his hair. He ought to buzz it off again.

\---

The silence was perfectly comfortable for Widowmaker, but Mercy was a little uneasy. Still, she did nothing to break it. She simply finished her beer, then stood to take the empty tray back to the kitchen. 

When it was just the two of them, Widow leaned into him a little as she had by the fridge. "It's good to have you back."

\---

He watched her get up and was about to follow. To make his sandwich and retire for the night, but when Widow spoke up, he focused on her. “It’s good to be back.” If all of this had happened without Widowmaker - the hit and everything - he wouldn’t be as calm as he currently was. He was still furious, but the fact that she had sided with him was helping him keep his cool. He returned the lean lightly, finding that it felt natural after how much they’d touched before.

\---

She smiled slightly when he put a little weight into her as well. He was different, but he was still her partner. Maybe with a little time out of that cell, he'd be back to his old self. "...Can I ask another favor? A strange one this time."

\---

“Alright, what?” He wasn’t sure what she would want, but after her previous request, he was anticipating something similar. He looked into her eyes - as striking as they were unnatural. He really had no idea how they were going to help her to blend in, but for now it wouldn’t be necessary.

\---

"I want you to tie me up before you go to sleep." She had plenty of wire he could use. It wouldn’t make for comfortable rest, but...it was her first night running away from the people she belonged to. It felt like a good precaution. 

\---

The request was not only reasonable, but responsible. He understood why she was asking immediately. “Sure. ...I was about to head out, do you want me to tie you up now?” He wanted to make sure there wasn’t anything else she needed or wanted to do before she was restricted to the couch for the night.

\---

"I'm ready." She hadn’t changed into anything more comfortable, but she didn’t particularly want to. It would be awhile before she could wear her catsuit again. She was glad that he understood and had no qualms with doing as she asked - he knew what she really wanted was to stay with him. 

\---

He stood up and held out a hand for her wire. He had nothing else to tie her up with, so he assumed they would be using that. It had held him so nicely, after all. Once he had it, he considered whether he ought to tie her wrists behind her or not. It would be infinitely less comfortable, but also a lot more secure. She would more easily be able to work her way out of binds in the front. In the end, he had her turn away from him and pulled her arms behind her to start fixing them together tightly.

\---

She rose and stood still for him as he bound her tightly. It was uncomfortable, but that didn’t matter. She tested the hold, but it wasn’t necessary - she knew better than anyone how strong that wire was. "Thank you, Reaper. I'll rest a little easier this way."

\---

He hummed. “Not done, sit down.” Once she was off her feet, he crouched in front of her and began to do the same with her ankles. If he was doing this, he wanted to do it right.

\---

Even better. Even more uncomfortable, but even more secure. "Take my phone to bed with you." She didn't want that anywhere nearby that she might be able to get at it.

\---

“Alright.” Maybe it was a little soon to trust her with a phone. He straightened up, looking down at her. His initial thought was to simply leave her as she was, but after a moment, he reached for her and helped ease her down so she could lay as comfortably as possible. He went so far as to grab the blanket that was folded over the back of it and hold it up.

“Want this?”

\---

She wasn’t expecting him to help lay her down and she appreciated him getting her settled. When he offered the blanket, she nodded. "Merci. And hit the light when you go."

\---

He laid the blanket over her and made sure she was completely covered before he took a step back. “Goodnight.” He took the phone, turned from her, and shut off the light, as she requested, though the light was still on in the kitchen. He made his way there, still wanting his sandwich. He set about making it, though he glanced at the doctor as he worked.

\---

Mercy was drinking down a tall glass of water. She needed proper hydration after being shot, but the beer had been nice. She watched with amusement as he started making a sandwich right after devouring the snacks. Maybe she hadn't been feeding him enough. 

\---

It felt strange to be doing this again after so long, but he piled it high with what he could find in the fridge. He considered grabbing the last beer while he was at it, but decided against it. “I’ll be in the bedroom,” he told her and, with a final look, he grabbed his mask and made his way to it. It was as small and plain as the rest of the apartment, but good enough. He sat down on the bed and started to eat his sandwich.

\---

It didn't take long for her to follow him to the bedroom and she smiled when she saw him sitting on the bed they would share. "I guess we don't have to push cots together tonight." They could sleep together in a real bed and without any cameras watching their every move. 

\---

“This is better,” he agreed, his eyes on her as she came in. “...Shut the door behind you.” He didn’t know if anything would happen tonight, but if it did, he thought it would be best if the door were closed. 

\---

She closed the door, wanting all the privacy they could get after the constant surveillance they had before. She went to the side of the bed he'd left for her and flopped down on it, sprawling out in the space she had. Not as good as her bed, but not bad. 

\---

He watched her while he ate, his eyes lingering on her bare legs. The shirt sat in a way that was teasing. Just barely long enough to cover the panties she’d pulled on. Once he finished, he moved the plate aside and set a hand on her thigh, stroking it. 

\---

She smiled when his hand found the bare skin of her thigh. It seemed he was still hungry, but not for anything in the fridge. "You can touch me as often as you like now. I hope you don't get bored of it."

\---

“Me too.” He didn’t know if he would or not, but so far, he wasn’t worried about it. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” What they both wanted. He shifted over her, his hand still stroking, though now his fingers dipped under so he could grope her ass.

\---

Her hands found his sides when he settled over her and she nodded up to him. "It's what I've been dreaming about." And not on a cold shower floor, which was a big improvement. 

\---

He hummed and his fingers curled into her panties, pulling them down and off. He shifted back, his palms pressing on her inner thighs and parting them lewdly for him. Much better. Maybe tomorrow he’d wear the shirt she was in. Without ceremony, he leaned down to start licking her. It was the first time since his lip had been fixed and he was looking forward to doing this properly.

\---

She didn't expect him to get right to it and she gasped in both surprise and delight. She still needed to be quiet as a courtesy to the sniper, but at least it wouldn't be a total disaster if she was heard. She spread her thighs even wider for him and her fingers slid down into his hair, gripping the strands as he worked her. 

\---

The reaction was satisfying and when he buried his mouth into her mound and started to suck, it was even more satisfying. He sucked hard, stroking his tongue against her eagerly. 

—

She moaned for him, keeping it quiet but louder than she would have dared in his cell. She hadn’t been sucked like that in a long time and she writhed helplessly beneath him. It was better than she'd been fantasizing about late at night in her own bed. 

\---

It was nice to really hear her and he took in her reactions, trying to adapt what he was doing to drive her wild. When she was wet enough, he slipped a couple of fingers into her and worked her there as well. For her, but mostly for him so he could draw them out after they were thoroughly soaked and suck on them to taste her. 

—

It was too good and before long her thighs were starting to tremble. "Gabriel…" It was nice to moan his name that way and not have to whisper. Her back began to arch and her sounds grew needy as he pleased her inside and out.

\---

He shivered, the sound of his name pleasing him. Coming from her, he no longer minded so much. He sucked her like he’d never sucked anything in his life, savoring the simple fact that he could. He could suck her anywhere he wanted and leave his mark behind. His eyes were fixed up on her face, wanting to see the moment she came for him.

\---

He didn’t have to wait long. She cried out, gripping his hair tighter as she came undone beneath his tongue. It was a lengthy orgasm, as much as she'd wanted this with him, but finally she fell still on the mattress, her fingers easing to massage his scalp instead as she caught her breath. 

\---

With a few more little licks, he lifted his mouth from her and, eyes still on her, he lifted his fingers to his mouth to suck them clean. Once they were no longer so slick, he started to strip out of his clothing, tossing it aside so he was bare, his cock thick for her. He came over her and ran his tip through her slit, before slipping into her and pressing their hips firmly together.

\---

She braced her feet on the bed when he slipped inside of her, pulling him down so she could kiss him deeply. She wanted to taste herself on his tongue. She pressed her hips up into his, eager for him to take her and make even more of her fantasies come true. 

\---

This was the first time they’d ever fucked laying down and the position definitely had its advantages. He kissed her hungrily, his tongue slipping into her mouth. When he started to move it was with firm, hard thrusts. The kind he’d always been too wary to give into when he was imprisoned.

\---

When he wasn't holding back, it was much harder to control her volume. She was trying, and failing, to keep her moans quiet while her fingers dug into his back. Her hips rocked to meet his, the mattress helping her momentum far more than a bathroom floor would have.

\---

His groan melded with hers, drawn when she dug her nails into his back. He liked that and it encouraged him to take her faster. He’d wanted to completely lose himself like this with her since the first time he’d touched her. He grunted with every few breaths, listening to their skin slap. To the bed creak. To her moans.

\---

It was getting hard to keep up with his thrusts, as much as she was writhing beneath him, but she met his hips as hard as she could. She forgot all about the sniper in the next room. Right now it was only the two of them and the mounting pleasure they shared. 

\---

“Angela,” he growled, his mouth moving to her neck and biting down. Hard enough to leave marks. His own sounds were gaining substance, the wooden frame shuddering beneath them. It didn’t take long for it to overwhelm him and he muffled his cry into her flesh, filling her up.

\---

She gasped when he bit her, her fingers digging harder into his back. She had to free up a hand to slide down between them and rub herself and her moans took on a desperate pitch. Moments after he started filling her with his load, her hips were bucking and she was squeezing him through her release. 

\---

When she came along with him, he slammed himself into her desperately though the waves of his release. When he finished, he was trembling, holding himself up so he wasn’t completely smothering her, but still laying flush. His eyes were squeezed shut and it was a while before he caught his breath. 

\---

She ran her fingers slowly over his back as she panted for air. They didn't have to hurry and get dressed to go their separate ways. They could spend the whole night this way if they wanted, though she knew for now he was keeping some of his weight off of her. She didn’t think she'd mind being smothered by him, even if it would make breathing pretty difficult while she slept. 

\---

When he got a hold of himself, he pulled back a little to look down at her, his entire demeanor relaxed. “You barely touched yourself.” The corner of his lips tugging up on one side in a crooked smirk. It seemed to be something to be proud of. He’d gotten her almost all the way there with only his cock.

\---

"You were so good to me with your mouth I barely had to." She was still so sensitive from that and he'd pounded her so hard she hardly needed anything from her fingers. She looked up to him with a lazy smile and brushed her fingers over his cheek. 

\---

His own hand slid in and he ran a finger against the teeth marks on her neck. He leaned in and brushed their lips together, calmer than he’d felt all throughout the day. This was what he’d needed to stay the underlying anger that was still plaguing him.

\---

She closed her eyes and kissed him softly. This was what she needed too. Being overwhelmed by him made her mourning of everything she'd left far more bearable. Her hand slid back a little further, her fingers tangling in his hair and massaging his scalp. 

\---

When he broke the kiss, it was to ease off of her. Not all the way. He shifted to her side and laid with his body half-flung over her, but so that she still wasn’t taking too much of his weight. He wanted her to keep stroking his scalp and he went so far as to burrow his head into her shoulder.

\---

She turned into him a little, keeping their bodies as close as possible. She hummed in contentment and kept working her fingers through his hair. "I'm glad you asked me to come with you." As awful as it was to leave everything, it would have been awful if he'd just taken off with the sniper too. 

\---

“I’m glad you came.” Just like with Widow, if she’d put her foot down, he would have left without her. He’d be here with Widow and she’d probably be the one in the bed and he’d be the one on the couch.

\---

"Do we leave early tomorrow?" She had no idea where they were going or how they were getting there. But she knew better than to think they'd be spending another day here. 

\---

“Yes. We have a flight in the morning.” They would have enough time to sleep to a somewhat reasonable hour, get ready, eat, and then go. The flight itself would be a long one, but once they arrived at their destination, they would be able to settle in for a while. At least until they figured out their next move.

\---

"Do you think you'll be able to sleep tonight?" It had been a hard day for everyone. She used her fingernails to lightly scratch his scalp between the soft caresses of her fingers. 

\---

“Mhm.” Especially after that. Already his eyes were drifting shut, lulled by her tender touches. It had been a long day and ever since she finished her work on him, he’d found his need for sleep felt more… normal. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that particular side effect. 

\---

"Then sleep. I'm sure we'll have a long day ahead tomorrow." She murmured and kissed his cheek. They probably had a lot of long days ahead of them. 

\---

He hummed again. This was surprisingly comfortable and it wasn’t long at all before he fell asleep. This sort of… cuddling wasn’t something he’d fantasized about, not like her, but it wasn’t so bad either. 

\---

She had a harder time falling asleep, having so much on her mind and having already gotten some rest in the car. But his presence was comforting and eventually her fingers fell still in his hair. When she did fall under, it was deep and dreamless.


	44. Chapter 44

Jack knew that something like this was going to happen. He'd known it since the moment Dr. Zieglar had proposed the idea. Now she was gone.

In truth, he was surprised she was alive. She was more useful to Reaper as a hostage, so he understood the logic of taking her alive. But it surprised him that the man had the self control to resist killing her the moment the cell door had opened. 

There had been a lot of blood, so apparently he or the sniper had tried. Or perhaps she had managed to wound one of them in self defense before they took her. Either way, it hadn’t been enough and the three of them were gone. 

"We need to get eyes on the inside of their facilities. I want our best hacking team on it immediately. I don’t think it's impossible that they would send her to Oasis and put her to work there, but most likely they're keeping her close for now. They may be planning on offering some sort of ransom negotiation to return her to us. That would be optimal and allow us a chance to get her back without too much damage, but I doubt we'll get that lucky. I think they mean to keep her and force her to work for them." 

\---

McCree shifted his weight uncomfortably. Things still hadn’t settled after what had happened and it had become obvious that he was the only person that had interacted with ‘them’ during their escape. He still didn’t know if he’d done the right thing in letting them pass, but it was done and over with. All that was left was dealing with the repercussions of his decision.

It didn’t really surprise him that Morrison was stepping forward and taking charge. Not considering who was involved. His eyes went to the others gathered for this emergency meeting, but it seemed they were in agreement with him. Heads were nodding and they were all listening to what he had to say. 

He took a step forward from where he was standing off to the side. He was too worked up to sit. “Well now… I think we ought to consider another angle.”

\---

Soldier looked at the man who spoke up, a little surprised by what he had to say. Or that he was saying anything at all. McCree hadn't said so much as a word to him since he explained what happened between him and Reaper. "What other angle is there to consider? Dr. Zieglar’s life is in danger."

\---

“I’m not so sure about that…” If Morrison was right, then he regretted what he’d done immensely. If not, then… Then he didn’t know. He didn’t know what to think. “Maybe we should consider whether Angela was actually kidnapped.” He folded his arms over himself.

\---

"...We didn't find a body. They must have taken her." He felt a little ill just thinking about it. If when he had burst into that room in the medical ward he'd found Angela’s corpse, dried and shriveled the way Reaper left them behind, he didn't know what he would have done. 

\---

He shifted his weight again. “What if she went willingly?” He wasn’t really looking at Jack. He wasn’t really looking at any of them. He would have to explain and he was trying to piece together how to. 

“No.” Genji spoke up for the first time since they’d gathered. He was unusually tense, but he had been listening intently to what was being said. “What it is you are saying, McCree?” Willingly? That she’d _wanted_ to go with them? Impossible.

“...I saw them. The alarms never went off, so I didn’t know anything was happening until I came across them in the hall. I tried to stop them, but… Angela asked me to let them pass. She made it sound like she was escaping with them…”

\---

"She _hates_ Talon. Why would she go willingly?" She wasn't in love with Overwatch either, but everyone knew her opinion of Talon was much lower. 

76 stood, too agitated to stay seated. "You saw them…" That was just sinking in for them. "Who was injured?" He wanted to know if they hurt Angela or if she had fought her attackers. 

\---

“...She was, but she _wanted_ to go with them.” He could have stopped them, but she’d implored him to let them go. “The sniper tried to hold her hostage and Reyes wouldn’t let her. He… he protected her.” He didn't know how to explain it. 

Slowly, Genji stood. “You had the opportunity to stop them and you didn’t take it?”

“She wanted to go with them. If I opened fire, I would have risked retaliation.” If he’d killed Widowmaker, then Reaper might have decided to sacrifice her after all.

\---

Jack considered that, then nodded. "You did the right thing. They might have killed her if you acted rashly." Whether she went willingly or not was a different story. Either way, trying to free her without any backup was too dangerous. "Reyes probably means to ransom her for something very valuable if he wouldn't let Widowmaker use her as a hostage." He'd probably love to trade the doctor to have _his_ head delivered to him on a platter. 

\---

He looked down. “You weren’t there. You didn’t see it.” There had been something there. Something that had made him stop. That had made him let them go. “We should try to rescue her, yeah, but don’t be surprised if she doesn’t want to be rescued.” He’d heard as much as anyone about what had happened in that cell. He couldn’t be the only one that was thinking it. 

“You are speaking nonsense.” From their short conversations on the matter, Genji knew that she was invested in Reyes, but the thought that she would willingly run off to Talon was ridiculous. “Whenever we go, I am going.”

\---

He nodded toward Genji. "Agreed. If McCree is right and she's gone willingly, I think you stand the best chance of talking sense into her." It was doubtful they could if it was true. They'd all tried to reason with her about the dangers of her project and she wouldn't listen. 

\---

“I’ll go too,” McCree added. If he had made a mistake… He wanted to make up for it. “Ana?” He looked at the sniper, silently questioning her. 

She nodded. “Of course.” Without Dr. Ziegler, they would need her to keep them patched up, should something go wrong.

\---

"Before we make too many plans about going, we need to focus on collecting intel." Jack stayed standing, but his posture relaxed a little since they were all in agreement. "We need to know where they're keeping her and what their intentions are for her. I don’t think they'd have reason to hurt her so we should have time to figure that out and form a plan."

\---

The cowboy could agree with that, but it left a bad taste in his mouth, the way Jack was taking charge. As long as he didn’t try to insert himself into the mission itself, he decided it didn’t matter. As such, he stepped back again, letting him continue to talk. He felt eyes on him and he glanced at Genji. There was a pause and then slowly the cyborg sank back into his seat.

\---

Morrison continued on about his plans for tapping into Talon for information, but eventually he looked between the cowboy and the cyborg right now. "In the meantime, remain vigilant. If she finds an opportunity to send a message to us, I think she will send it to one of you." Of the people in the room. Torbjörn was also a likely person she would reach out to and he'd make a note to speak to him. 

\---

“Whatever you say, boss.” There was mocking in his voice as he drew out a cigar and lit it. Since things had wound down, he was the first to step out of the room. He half-expected Genji to follow him, but he was left alone and he sighed as he made his way outside and into the moonlight. The doctor was on his mind and he tried to imagine where she was now. What she was doing. If she was okay.

\---

He didn't miss the jab, but he said nothing. McCree probably wasn't the only person less than thrilled that he had taken charge of this, but that was unimportant. What mattered was that they got Dr. Zieglar back safely. "If no one else has anything, let's table this for now and regroup in a few days."


	45. Chapter 45

He was in his cell. He was alone when the vent flew from the wall. When Widowmaker dropped in, her rifle in hand. He called her name, his heart lifting. She was here to free him. Then the gun rose, aimed at him. He went still. _Adieu, Reaper._ There was a shot and then nothing.

His eyes snapped open, his heart still pounding. For a moment he simply laid there, shock in his expression. Slowly, it struck him what had happened. A dream. He’d actually had a dream. A dream about Widowmaker carrying out her assassination. He took a measured breath and then started to ease away from Angela. 

He ought to check on her. 

When he was on his feet, he grabbed his discarded pants and pulled them on. The blinds were shut on the window, but he could see the morning light starting to peek through. He silently left the room, heading out to where the sniper had been left the night prior.

\---

Widow’s eyes were closed, but they opened as soon as she heard him coming. The blanket was twisted around her after a long night of wriggling and trying to get comfortable. It hadn’t allowed for much sleep, but it was a necessary precaution. Rather than greet him, she simply turned over enough that he could get at her wrists to untie them. 

\---

He went to her without a word, his fingers working to loosen the wire. Once it was free, he tossed it aside and then crouched again, waiting for her to shift so he could work off what was still wrapped around her ankles.

\---

She shook out her arms as soon as they were free. Much better. She pushed herself to sit up, drawing her legs closer to where he crouched so he could get the other bindings. "If we bring them the girl, I don't think they'll kill us. She could be useful to them. We could go home."

\---

“No,” he replied simply, loosening those as well. He tossed that wire aside as well and rather than stand, he shifted back so he was sitting on the coffee table. “I’m going to take a shower. You should as well, then change.”

\---

"We could tell them it was a mistake. I'll take the punishment for it. It isn't your fault, she was manipulating you." Even as she spoke, she sounded distracted. She was taking in his restored face up close for the first time. She leaned closer, reaching out and touching the part of his lip that had been repaired. "What has that little putain done to you?"

\---

“She did what Moira couldn’t.” What he would have wanted done to him back then, if he could have had his way. He allowed the touch, but his expression was cool. “She hasn’t manipulated me. _I_ manipulated her.” He had simply come to want her in that time. 

\---

"You were perfect before she got her hands on you." She let her hand drop to take one of his. "Let's go back. We can resolve this."

\---

His brows furrowed, uncertain of what to make of that. She’d liked, no, _preferred_ when he was disfigured? He closed his hand around hers and used it to pull her up. “You’re staying in the bathroom with me while I shower.” He turned and used his grip on her to drag her with him. There, he shut and locked the door. If she tried to leave, he would hear her.

\---

She was stiff from lying in her bindings, but managed to keep up with him as he pulled her along. She hopped up to sit on the counter, watching him with a frown. "She isn't worth all of this, is she? She was on your list…"

\---

“I’m not done with Talon because of her. I’m done with Talon because they tried to have me murdered.” He slipped his pants off and stepped into the shower. He shut the curtain most of the way, but still left a considerable crack to one side so he could easily look out if he needed to. He started up the water, teeth clenching when it started off cold and then slowly warmed.

\--- 

"They put the hit on you because of her." She turned to look at herself in the mirror and cringed a little at the dark circles under her eyes. She needed some beauty rest. She opened a cabinet and found a comb and some toothbrushes. She could work on that much while he showered. 

\---

“They put a hit on me because they didn’t trust me.” Which was fair in many ways, but not in _this_ way. They really ought to know better. “I’ll kill the entire counsel for daring.” Then maybe they could return to Talon. When their ranks crumbled and they were in need of a leader. 

\---

"They didn’t trust you _because of her_." She was starting to brush her teeth when she heard the groggy call of "Gabriel?" from the other room and she sighed. She really should have aimed that shot better. 

\---

“I was using her,” he snapped impatiently. His eyes went to the crack when he heard the woman in question call him. “Shower,” he called back, busy scrubbing his body. When he spoke again, it was quieter. “They should have figured that out. For fuck’s sake, I told that bitch of a nurse as much.”

\---

She rinsed her mouth, then let her hair down, starting to comb carefully through the tangled strands. She was quiet, knowing she wasn't getting anywhere. He already knew this was all that bitch's fault but he wanted to keep her anyway. 

\---

It didn’t take long for him to finish. He stepped out, grabbed a towel, and wrapped it around his waist. “Your turn.” He stepped past her, unlocking the door and letting himself out. He shut it behind him and went to the table to pick out clothing for himself. He was dripping water all over the floor, but clearly that wasn’t a concern for him.

\---

Mercy was already dressed and in the kitchen. The idea was to be incognito and so she chose something that was very much not her style. High-waisted jeans and a loose shirt with a subtle floral pattern. Pretty bland, but that was the point. She had a pan on the stove and she was rummaging through the fridge. 

\---

He saw the shirt that he’d fucked Angela in sitting on the table. So she’d changed. He tossed it to the side, along with a pair of jeans, and some underwear. He took the towel from his waist, gave himself a rough scrub with it, and then started to pull his selections on. There was also a pair of large sandals - the best option in lieu of knowing his shoe size. He slipped them on his feet, not at all liking the way they felt, and then made his way into the kitchen where he could hear her cooking. 

\---

She smiled when she saw him and it turned into more of a smirk when she recognized the shirt he chose. She pulled a carton of eggs from the fridge, some shredded cheese, and cubed ham. "It's hard to mess up eggs. I think I can manage that for us this morning."

\---

“Sounds good to me.” He wasn’t going to complain. “Widow’s taking a shower and after we eat, we have to go.” The sooner, the better. They weren’t exactly in a time crunch currently, but he didn’t want to let it get to that point either.

\---

"Is someone meeting us when we land or are we on our own from there?" She didn't know how much money they'd taken from that man, but maybe it would cover a hotel and a car rental. She started cracking eggs over the hot skillet, tossing the shells in the garbage as she went. 

\---

“We’re on our own.” Sort of. He had contacts where they were going, but he wasn’t going to be calling upon them immediately. “It’ll take a while for us to plan our next move, so we’ll be staying there for the immediate future.” He really didn’t know how long it would take, but they should be alright as long as they were careful to blend in. Widowmaker obviously posed the biggest problem as far as that was concerned. 

\---

She nodded, but didn't look up from her work. "I would be happy to contribute to our runaway funds but I don’t know if my bank account is tracked by Overwatch." She hoped not, but it probably was. She hesitated after she cracked six eggs, then remembered how much he ate last night and went on to crack all twelve. 

\---

“If not, then Sombra will be monitoring it.” He shook his head. “We have plenty of cash.” He’d gotten what he needed from his contact. “Don’t worry about it.”

\---

"I'd rather we didn't have to take money from anyone like we did yesterday." She didn't want to rob anyone and she especially didn't want anyone else getting killed. She started to break up and scramble the eggs, her head turning when she heard the water stop in the bathroom. Widowmaker would be coming out soon and she was the one she was particularly worried about causing needless death on their journey. 

\---

“We won’t have to.” They hadn’t killed him for his money, anyway. They’d killed him for his phone. They’d simply taken his money as well. “I have twenty grand now. We’ll be fine.” He also looked over when she did, but it didn’t hold his attention long. “...You know that I’ll kill anyone that poses a threat. Anyone that stands in our way.” It wasn’t a question. It was more that he wanted her to acknowledge it as the truth.

\---

"Only if it's necessary." Yesterday it hadn't at all been necessary. She starts to add in the ham and cheese as the eggs solidified. It was nothing fancy, but it was really starting to smell good. 

\---

“What you and I consider necessary might not be the same.” He watched as she cooked what was quite a ridiculous amount of eggs. He knew he’d easily put it away, though, and he appreciated that she’d made so much. “...Don’t make this harder than it has to be.” The request was rather genuine, not just him demanding things of her.

\---

She frowned and fell quiet, not knowing what to say to that. It really wasn't much different than the way Overwatch treated her concerns about the human lives that were collateral damage. She heard the bathroom door open and knew she was going to get no help from the sniper, she would only side with her partner on the matter. 

\---

When she didn’t say anything, he decided to drop it. For now. If it came up again, then he would make sure to settle it. He moved away from her and dug through the cabinets for a glass so he could pour himself some water. 

—

When Widowmaker joined them in the kitchen, she did not choose the least nondescript thing she could find. She chose the soft blue dress, the closest thing to what she would actually wear. Her long, damp hair was braided - that much at least was different about her look. Not that it mattered much. Nothing was going to catch the eye more than her skin tone anyway. “Ah, elle _est_ bonne pour quelque chose.” 

“I speak French, you know.” Not as well as German or English, but she thought the sniper should know. Mercy was starting to plate up their food, trying to remember how much Widow had eaten the night before to judge her portion. 

“Good.” The way Widow spat the word, she wasn’t all that pleased to learn it, but the food smelled good so she still took the plate she was offered.

\---

His eyes went between the two women, but he wasn’t interested in stepping in. He did not speak French and though his knowledge of Spanish usually gave him some idea of what she was saying, he probably didn’t understand quite as well as Angela did, if that was true. 

He looked over the sniper. “...No pants that fit?”

—

“I don’t like pants.” She hadn’t even considered them. She frowned, leaning against the counter to dig into her eggs. “Do you not like my dress?” It wasn’t perfect, but it was decent. 

Mercy had no idea what to suggest. Unless they dressed her like a devout Islamic woman in sunglasses, she wasn’t sure how they were going to put her undercover. She offered Gabriel a heaping plate of eggs and ham, taking only a very modest portion for herself. 

\---

“It looks good.” As good as any of her dresses, though he supposed it wasn’t quite as revealing as the sort of dresses she gravitated to. That was for the best. “Might be better to cover up a bit more, though.”

When he noticed the plate being offered to him he took it from her. Rather than thank her verbally, he leaned in and kissed her, before moving to stand beside Widow so he could eat as well. 

—

Her frown deepened. “You can’t cover me up enough to hide what I am, Reaper.” Wearing something a soccer mom would wear like the doctor was dressed in now wasn’t going to disguise her. “It’s probably better that you two go without me if it’s going to be a problem.”

“Nonsense. I think there was a hoodie in that pile that would look very nice on you.” Mercy would be fine with the sniper staying behind, but she knew it would upset Gabriel. For that reason she set her plate aside to go find something else for her to wear.

\---

“I’m not trying to hide you.” Not the way she seemed to be implying. “We just need to get you somewhere without anyone noticing.” He wasn’t _that_ concerned about the flight itself, but after the flight, when they landed and were settling in, he didn’t want anyone seeing her. 

—

She doubted that was possible. For someone who did her best work in the shadows where she couldn’t be seen, she was extremely eye-catching. “I don’t think we can get anywhere without anyone noticing. You look more alive these days, but I don’t.” 

\---

“We can try.” He sighed, setting his plate down. “You’re coming with me and you’re doing whatever I tell you to do.” He had always taken the lead in their relationship, but he’d never established his dominance like that. He never had to. She always agreed with him and on rare occurrence that she didn’t, he simply disengaged. He’d given her his word that he wouldn’t disengage, though. 

—

She looked up to him and put her plate down as well. Without having emotion to get in the way of her decisions, she wasn’t used to being so conflicted and she looked as confused as she did troubled. Everything in her told her that this wasn’t going to work and she just needed to go home and explain everything to them, but he was the one she wanted to stay with and she couldn’t do both.

\---

He could see that she was struggling and his lips set. It took him a moment to muster what to say. “Widowmaker, I’m taking care of you. Like you want me to.” That wasn’t exactly what she’d asked of him, but it was all the same to him. Making sure she stayed with him was basically taking care of her. “I want you to change into something that covers you up as much as possible.”

\---

She knew she’d asked him to do that. It just seemed _wrong_ now. But she trusted him and she nodded slowly. 

Mercy came back with jeans, a slimmer cut than what she was wearing herself that she thought might be more to the sniper’s liking, and the hoodie she’d mentioned. “Here, try these on. If you hate them, we’ll find something else.” Not that there were a _ton_ of options on the table. 

Widow still looked troubled, but she gave the doctor a stiff nod and took the clothes, headed off to the bathroom to change. Mercy frowned as she watched her go, then looked to Gabriel. “Is she going to be okay?”

\---

“...I don’t know. I don’t know how to fix her head.” All he really wanted to fix was her loyalty to Talon, but he had no idea how to go about it. “She listens to me. She wants to stay with me, so maybe that’ll be enough.” He didn’t know why she was so loyal to him, but he had to hope it would be enough to stop her from doing anything drastic. Otherwise, he would have to be even more forceful.

\---

“Maybe I could help her.” She’d done more for him than anyone, probably including the man himself, would have thought possible. “I just...don’t have a facility. Or any tools or medications.” Or her staff. Or her team of doctors or nurses. Or anything. “Maybe when we get established somewhere I can do something.” Though she doubted she’d be any more willing than he was in the beginning.

\---

He studied her. He’d had the same thought, but there was some reluctance in him. “...What would you do? Try to bring Amelie back?” That was what he didn’t want. Though he knew it wasn’t really his decision. It was Widow’s decision. Even so, he didn’t want her turning back the clock the way she had on him. Not that much.

\---

“I...don’t know that it’s a good idea. After all she’s done under Talon’s influence, I don’t know if she could live with herself.” It might be terribly cruel to bring Amelie back after she’d murdered her beloved husband in cold blood. “It would be extremely difficult to try to leave her personality suppressed, but try to undo some of her brainwashing.” She was also dying to know if her heart was truly never beating and how the hell her circulatory system stayed active if that was so. She’d be fascinating to study. “But I’m up for a challenge.”

\---

He wasn’t so sure. “We’ll see.” He looked down at the plate and with a sigh, picked it back up. He made quick work of what was left, wanting to get it over with rather than enjoy what he had. “There’s a bag on the table - put whatever you want to bring with you in it.” He set the plate back down on the counter and left her in the kitchen. He went to the blinds in the living room and peeked out of them. 

They ought to get going soon.

\---

“Okay. Really just what’s in my lab coat.” She had a lot of stuff in those pockets, none of it particularly useful in this scenario, but all of it she wanted. She finished her eggs, leaving Widow’s portion out in case she decided to come back for it.

The sniper came out of the bathroom looking very much not like herself. With her hood up, her head down, and her hands in her pockets, it would be fairly difficult to tell from a distance that she looked different than anyone else. “Better?”

\---

He turned his head to look behind him when she stepped out. “...Better.” She didn’t look like herself at all. Which was ideal. “There’s a bag on the table,” he repeated, “Put your stuff in it.” Her catsuit and her visor. Whatever else she’d brought with her. He made his way over to the bag himself.

\---

“Guns?” She asked, as they were the most important thing. If this was the bag they were checking on the plane, they might need a different way to transport the guns. 

\---

“Guns,” he agreed. Though he would be keeping his guns on him, not in the bag. Unfortunately, her rifle wasn’t as easily stowed on her. He went ahead and tucked them away while they were talking about it. “Why don’t you give me the cash you picked up from that guy.” 

\---

She gathered her things, then returned to him with her gear, tucking it away in the bag. It took up a lot of space, so it was good that when the doctor joined them, she only brought a handful of things along. Vinyl gloves, pens, alcohol swabs, snacks, a few capped syringes, and a few small vials. She might not be actively treating patients, but she still felt like the things she carried every day might be handy.

\---

“Is the medkit worth bringing?” If not they could always get another one when they needed another one. Otherwise, that was everything he cared about. He’d keep phones on him as well. One of them was still Widow’s, but he would wait a while to return it to her.

\---

Mercy considered it, then nodded. “I used some of it, but there’s enough left we should bring it just in case.” She went to the bathroom and came back with what was left of the medkit, tucking it into the bag with the rest of their things. In the meantime, Widow handed over the handful of cash she’d taken off the man the day before.

\---

He took it from her and stuffed it into his pocket. It’d be handy to have it on hand, since what he had in the manila envelope was a lot of hundreds. He slipped said envelope in the bag. All that left was his stuff, so he gathered it up, shoved it in with what little space they had left, then he slung the back over his shoulder. “Are we ready?”

\---

Mercy looked up to him and to her surprise, she even smiled a little. She was still mourning so many things, but she was also a little excited to run away with him. "Ready."

Widowmaker looked like she was struggling with it a little more, though with her hood up, her features were somewhat hidden. She simply nodded. 

\---

He lead the way out, leaving the keys to the apartment behind. He went to the car they’d stolen. A little risky to use it, but it was a short drive. He tossed the bag back in the back seat and settled behind the wheel. He didn’t know where either of the women would sit, but he wasn’t worried about it.

\---

Widow stepped past Mercy on the way to the car to sit beside her partner. It was where she was yesterday and where she belonged. Angela had no complaints with sitting in the back. She doubted they had all that far to go anyway.

\---

Once they were settled, they were off. Twenty minutes later, they arrived at a small private airstrip. Once they got past the gates, they dumped the car and were brought to a private plane by a couple of inconspicuously uniformed men in a LSV. There was barely a word exchanged between them and the transition from car to plane itself only took about five minutes. 

Inside the plane was room enough for four spacious seats, a long couch with television across from it, and a minibar beside that. It wasn’t the most extravagant plane in the world, but it was a hell of a lot better than a public airline. Reaper went straight to one of the seats and dropped down in it, tossing the bag on the floor in front of him.

\---

Widowmaker took the couch. It had been a long night for her and she had high hopes of getting some sleep on the flight. Mercy settled into a seat near Gabriel, the reality of this setting in a little more. They were really doing this. She was flying off to an unknown location and Overwatch would have no idea where to find her. "Will we be flying long?" She imagined he wanted to get as far away as possible. 

\---

He nodded. “Should be about fifteen hours. With a stop to refuel.” Plenty of time for Widow to sleep. He looked out of the window. It was only them and the pilot, so if they wanted anything they’d have to get it themselves. He’d probably pour himself a drink later - now that he could indulge again, he wasn’t hesitant to. 

\---

That was a long flight indeed, but at least their accommodations were comfortable. She looked to him with a little smirk. "If someone had bet me yesterday morning that this morning I'd be sitting next to you on a private plane, I would have lost a lot of money."

\---

“Now you know to bet in my favor next time.” He slouched back in his seat, sliding his sandals off. He didn’t like them and he’d rather be barefoot than wear them when he didn’t have to. Slowly the plane started to taxi and he looked out the window again. 

\---

Widow looked all the more anxious when the plane started to move. They were leaving and soon it would be much harder for her to get back to Talon. She stood suddenly, despite the movement beneath her feet and indicators to stay seated, and went to the mini bar. 

\---

He noticed the movement out of the corner of his eye and he watched what she was doing. He didn’t care about her standing when she wasn’t supposed to, he just wanted to make sure she wasn’t going to do something stupid. It seemed he’d be keeping an eye on that for some time.

\----

She poured herself a stiff drink, noticing that her hands were trembling. She was _never_ rattled. Except for yesterday when she disobeyed her orders and spared Reaper, anyway. Her eyes moved to the emergency exit and she took a slow breath. She could do this. She could leave. 

\---

He continued to watch her closely, waiting for her to take her drink and sit back down. He shifted forward slightly in his seat, as if readying himself to stand.

\---

She seemed to have forgotten her drink. She simply stood there, perfectly still, staring at the door. 

Mercy glanced between the two of them. As far as she was concerned, it might not be such a bad thing if the sniper bolted. 

\---

He was waiting, but when nothing happened he decided to speak up. “Go sit down, Widow. The plane’s about to take off.” It was starting to pick up speed, so that was true enough.

\---

That was enough to tear her eyes away from the door. They fixed on him instead. Reaper, her partner. The man more important to her than her directive to obey Talon. 

Rather than go to her own seat, she went to his. She climbed onto his lap, straddling him, and kissed him hard. It was the distraction she needed.

Mercy sat up straight, her face flushing with surprised jealousy. She was stunned by the strong temptation she felt to grab her by her hair and tug the sniper off her man. Was he really hers? Did she really have any more claim to him than Widow?

\---

When she approached him, he started to stand, so his ass fell back into the chair when she threw herself on him. He was startled and at first his hands rose as if he didn’t know what to do with them. Her lips were so much colder than he remembered and he finally placed his palms on her shoulders to push her back.

“What are you doing?”

\---

She frowned when he pushed her away, her fingers gripping his shirt. "I need to stay. For you. I can't go back to them." It was clear that she was struggling to put her thoughts together. It was hard to think about anything clearly at the moment as she felt the plane accelerating.

\---

His eyes shifted to Mercy. If she wasn’t with them… he’d have kissed her. Hell, he’d have probably taken her to bed the night before. The only reason he hadn’t was because he didn’t need her anymore. Their arrangement was no longer necessary when he had a woman to give him what he needed. ...That wasn’t really fair, though. For a time, Widow had been the woman giving him what he needed. 

It wasn’t the same… Angela _wanted_ him. She wanted to give him what he needed. 

“Then stay.” Slowly, his hands slid down from her shoulders to her hips and he held her there. Not an embrace, but something secure to try to help calm whatever had caused this in her.

\---

Widow felt a little better when he held her. He wasn’t going to let her go. She leaned forward again, but this time she didn't kiss him. She simply nestled against him and set her head on his shoulder. 

Angela was clearly uncomfortable, but stayed quiet. Gabriel had discouraged her from kissing him and she seemed to accept that. Not that she was thrilled with Widow cuddling up to her man either, but it was an improvement.

\---

The plane lifted into the air and for a while, he stayed as he was. His touch was a little awkward and she really was chilly, but eventually he eased his arms around her and held her to him more securely. He even went so far as to stroke her back. This wasn’t usual for them, even at their closest, but she clearly needed him and he wanted to be there for her.

\---

It was exactly what she needed. She stayed pressed to him for several minutes after they took off, taking in the comfort he offered her. Eventually the turmoil in her mind quieted and she eased back to look at him. She looked as calm and collected as ever and she gave him a nod to assure him she was okay before she climbed off of him. 

\---

He let go of her when she pulled away and watched her. He wasn't entirely convinced she was okay and he wanted to make sure she would take her seat. He was still surprised that she’d kissed him, uncertain of what it had to do with her wanting to stay.

\---

Widow went back to the mini bar to collect her drink she abandoned earlier, then returned to the couch and sat down. Mercy was watching her closely, but eventually her eyes went to Gabriel. "I'm not responsible for what happens if she kisses you like that again."

\---

He tore his eyes from her to look at the woman beside him. “...She’s having a hard time.” It was hardly an excuse, but he wasn’t sure what else to say. If she still wanted to be close to him like that… He shook the thought. He didn’t think that was what that was, even if he wasn’t sure what it was.

\---

Weren't they all? She frowned, but nodded, trying to be understanding. Something was wrong with Widowmaker’s brain. She looked over to the sniper and watched her swallow down her drink. She was definitely having a hard time. 

\---

He was glad that she left it at that. He didn’t really want what Widow had done to complicate things. He didn’t think it was a big deal. If anything, she’d always liked the idea of them having some sort of special relationship, hadn’t she? So it wasn’t as if she couldn’t be _that_ angry.

\---

She watched as the sniper set her empty glass aside, then laid down on the couch with her back to them. She leaned closer so she could keep her voice down. "If she's a problem when we land, I have a sedative in the bag. Only one dose, but it would be enough to get her somewhere secure."

\---

He hummed disapprovingly. He was not at all fond of sedatives after his imprisonment. When she’d forced them on him… He shook his head. He wasn’t going to do that to her. “She does okay when she’s close to me. I’ll just keep her close.” 

\---

"Okay. Just know it's an option if things get really bad." It wouldn’t exactly be discreet if they had to haul her unconscious body around, so it would only be a last resort. She reached over and touched his arm lightly, wanting to touch him after seeing the other woman encroach on her territory. "Looks like she's settled for now."

\---

He gave a short nod. “Want a drink?” Since Widow had made one for himself, he didn’t feel bad about drinking so early. Even if she hadn’t taken one, he probably wouldn’t feel bad about drinking so early.

\---

"Well..." There wasn't any reason she needed to stay completely sober with such a long flight ahead of them, though her gut told her to keep her wits about her. After a beat, she nodded. "Yes, but not a strong one."

\---

He stood up and went to pour them both a drink. His harder, hers not so much. He brought them back to her and sat down, offering hers. He sipped it and sighed, sitting back. 

\---

She thanked him and had a drink of her own. She'd need to try to get some exercise at some point - her food and drink choices over the last day hadn't been the most healthy. Her fingers rose to gingerly touch the bandages on her cheek and she winced. She should have tried to look at the wound before they left, but she hadn't to save time. 

\---

He glanced over at her when she winced. “...That bad?” It hadn’t looked that bad to him when he’d seen it. He really didn’t care if it scarred. She’d look nice even with a scar on her cheek.

\---

"It burns more than I thought it would. As long as it doesn't get infected, I'm not worried about it." Though she would rather it didn't scar. She wasn't all that vain, but...vain enough that she didn't want a big scar on her face. 

\---

“You’ve been shot before, surely?” Was that really her first time taking a bullet? He’d taken more bullets than he could count, but he’d always managed to avoid anything that would kill him. 

\---

"Oh, I have. Just not in the face and not without proper tools for healing." She'd been shot plenty over the years. Though typically she did a decent job of staying out of the line of fire so she could instead take care of her comrades. 

\---

He hadn’t really considered that. “You don’t have your staff…” That would have been extremely useful for her to bring. That was a shame. He’d forgotten about it, truthfully, since she hadn’t had it on her the entire time he’d been imprisoned.

\---

"No. I'll have to have a new one made." Somehow. The idea was depressing and she sighed and took another drink. 

\---

“Hmm.” As long as she could, it wasn’t that big of a deal, was it? “Need more shotguns.” They were by far his weapon of choice. He could do well with most any gun, but shotguns were where he excelled. Close range combat. 

\---

"Shotguns might be a little easier to get." Maybe not up to his standards. But he could find something serviceable. Hopefully wherever they settled they wouldn’t be needing shotguns. 

\---

“Should be.” He took another sip of his drink and looked at her. After a moment, his lips quirked slightly. She’d really dropped everything to come with him. He’d accomplished what he’d set out to… but he had never intended it to go this far.

\---

She met his gaze and felt herself smile when she saw the way he was looking at her. "What are you thinking about?" She doubted he was still thinking about shotguns. 

\---

“...Nothing.” He tore his eyes from her. He didn’t want to admit his thoughts. He took another sip, glancing at her again, before looking elsewhere.

\---

Nothing he was willing to talk about, anyway. Eventually her eyes went back to Widowmaker. The sniper was motionless, her back still to them. She was deep in thought as she studied the other woman, curious about what exactly Talon had done to her and if O’Deorain had a hand in it. 

\---

He had a lot on his mind and he had plenty of time to think about it. Much as he hated Overwatch, Talon was his priority. If he could stage a coup… Then he’d have all of the power of Talon at his fingertips. Being who he was, he didn’t think there would be all that much resistance as long as he killed the whole council. It was something he’d have to plan carefully and he intended on exactly that. 

\---

She wanted to help Widow, but she could do anything for anyone until she could set up a medical practice somewhere. Twenty grand wasn't going to be enough and her wants weren't exactly the priority. They just had to find somewhere safe to settle in for the time being. 


End file.
